An overview of the Lavoie’s month of May: 2 baby showers (in 2 different states), 2 graduations (in 2 different states), 3 birthdays, one plane ride, and the beginning of John’s final DTS classes.
Puffin Prep: Not a week goes by where we don’t receive a package at our doorstep filled with goodies for little Puffin. I sincerely hope this little man understands how loved he is because it’s already overwhelming his mama. Slowly but surely his nursery is looking less like a storage closet and more like a place where a human being could actually live and sleep without tripping over some kind of fire hazard. Whenever I walk into it, I usually find myself slowing down, looking around and praying, “Oh God. A little baby is going to live in here. You better show up when that happens because it makes me feel a little squeamish.”
Seminary Graduation: This weekend we celebrated John graduating from seminary! He has 2 more classes to take this summer before he is “officially” done but he participated in the commencement ceremony on Saturday and I was about an inch from a happy meltdown for almost the entire 2-hour event. (Keep in mind — I’m also pregnant, so when I let the tears roll, it’s usually only a matter of moments before I’m full-out weeping and snarfing my own saliva. So. Self-restraint was necessary).
Mother’s Day Shock: Now today is Mother’s Day and I woke up this morning to a bunch of “Happy Mother’s Day!” wishes that sent my mind reeling since I hadn’t even considered, amidst all the hub-bubbery, that today is my official first Mother’s Day as a mom. I could probably write a blog about all the emotions I’m feeling just about that little nugget of reality.
Honestly, all of these things are blog posts in and of themselves. I could tell you a million different stories about my pregnancy journey, my husband, our seminary experience etc etc. Maybe one day I’ll get around to expounding on them but for today, I’m just here to say to you, reader: Don’t miss the little days. Don’t miss the fact that all of these big celebrations, all the milestones that we celebrate and document and cherish in our lives are all built on a bunch of little, tired days. Days filled with butt-wiping or paper-writing or rush-hour commuting or late-night dinners. Days that stretched into the night, that turned into weeks, and stacked up into months. Accomplishments are born from countless unglamorous, non – instagrammable moments and unrelenting encouragement from other people.
Sometimes you wanna quit. Lots of times, actually. Whether you’re working towards a degree, scratching out a foundation for your dreams, raising children or whatever else. Anyone I’ve talked to who has dared to embark on something that’s bigger than themselves has told me that it was/is hard, hard, hard.
Seminary was hard for us. That’s just the truth of it. Lots of great fruit from the experience with lots of dark, sticky sludge to wade through to get to that fruit. I don’t have my son in my arms yet so I have no idea what awaits us in terms of parenthood. That’s still an unknown world to me but many who are in it now tell me that it’s hard. It’s tireless, often thankless work that breaks your back and sometimes your sanity. They also tell me they wouldn’t trade it for anything. Isn’t it weird how you hear that a lot from exhausted parents? I think it’s because the things in life that humble us are the same things that free us. We can’t pretend to be perfect when it’s so obvious that we’re in over our heads, right? We can’t claim brilliance, independence, or self-sufficiency when we’re so tired we would hand our newborn baby to the mailman for 5 minutes just so we could take a hot shower.
All the best things in life come from the little days that we often miss. Just like “Rome wasn’t built in a day!” neither are successful people. “Successful” meaning well-adjusted, contented, grateful, hard-working people. Not necessarily with a big bank account but with a life that overflows with a million blessedly small moments.
To the little, tired days of my life — past, present, and future — thank you.