Autopilot

-just as I was about to sit and write about how I only had a few seconds to record my thoughts because I'd be interrupted by a crying baby, I was interrupted by a crying baby. So, where was I?

...oh yeah. I'm a bad parent. As I sat in front of the TV watching the 7th episode straight of a sitcom series we'd rented from Netflix (DVDs delivered to your door absolutely rocks), I felt sad. No, not because of something I had just seen in the show, but of something I'd just realized. I had been feeding, changing, holding, rocking my baby for the past 3+ hours straight. But I felt no joy, no happiness. I was simply on autopilot. I'm always on autopilot. Yes, we have twins. I take care of one, then the other, then maybe that same one, then the other. I meet their needs. They're fed. They're changed. They sleep. They cry. Then I take care of their needs again. I forget they're my sons. I forget the precious little miracles that they are, born 10 weeks early yet now a strapping 12 pounds each 4 months later. I forget how much I prayed for them in the NICU, anxious to see them everyday, wanting to hold them and take care of them myself. I forget the fear I felt when they went back to the hospital and how I complained that all I wanted was for all the tubes to go away so I could take them in my arms unimpeded. They've become just "what I do" all day. I now savor the moments ("momentitos" in Spanish, which is so much more accurate because it means "little moments") of no one needing anything from me.

That's why I'm a bad parent. LORD, help me to appreciate, enjoy, and love my sons. You've given them to us because You know our needs and what we can handle, with Your help. Remind me that they're precious treasures in our care. Remind me that Jack and Jedidiah are gifts from You.

...oops, someone's crying. Vamonos.

"Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5