the highchair

this evening i took our highchair out of the kitchen. the chair that held each of our babies through their first tastes of solid food. through their first couple of years of life. through learning how real food actually tastes, and the games of "uh-oh" that accompanied many a meal time.

our littlest is about to turn two. and she loves sitting at the table like a big girl. so despite my baby being a baby for a couple more weeks, she's done with her highchair. for good. 

and so are we. 

and that's the craziest part of all. 

because if you had told me at the beginning of 2012 that peter and i would be entrusted with three amazing masterpieces of our creator, and by mid-2020 we'd be done with the baby phase of our child-rearing, i probably would have smacked you. 

but the years of infertility weren't the end of our story. it sure as hell felt like it was at the time. it felt like it would never end. that we would never have any answers for the: when are you going to have kids? question that was constantly posed to us. {don't be that person. don't ask.}

but now. eight short and oh-so-long years later, our arms are filled to the brim with amazing small people who are growing and changing all the time. and growing and changing us in the process. 

now we have a well-used, well-loved, well-food-encrusted highchair. 

they've all learned to eat their fruits and veggies in that seat. they've all learned how to pick up cheerios and how to use a cup in that seat. they've all ground sweet potatoes into the seat of it {and their pants} in that seat. they've learned a certain amount of independence. they've learned bits and pieces of who they are and what they like and what's expected of them in the same highchair. 

and here we are. almost done with the baby stage. 

there's so many amazing things wrapped up in each stage. and that's the thing.

i'm nostalgic about the baby stage, but more in the sense that i need to remember the good. i need to remember to give thanks and be grateful for these three unbelievably amazing kids. because there was a day {okay, years} when i didn't know if i would ever kiss their squishy baby cheeks. i didn't know if anyone would ever call me mom. i didn't know. 

i'm slowly learning to be grateful for the now. to be present today. 

and today i'm grateful for a highchair that served us well for seven + years.

i'm grateful for the good things about today. 

for my two big kids playing well together all day. 

for my littlest taking a good nap.

for watching all of them learn to love swimming and the pool.

for a quick, but filling dinner filled with made-up, but clever jokes, and a glass of pinot.

for a baby ponytail that she actually left in her hair for a few hours for the first time.

i'm grateful for the trip we got to take and how well it taught me about the importance of getting away from normal so i can think about the normal stuff and figure out if it should be the normal stuff or not. 

for the people we had a chance to visit with - people who gave us a place to rest our heads, and invade their space. but also gave us soul-building conversations and allowed us to continue to share in their lives even when we live nowhere close to each other anymore. 

things change constantly. every day. every moment. 

in fact, i think if i stood near my kids' beds and watched them sleep for long enough, i'd see them get bigger. 

actually, physically bigger. 

it's funny how it sneaks up on you. and yet, when i take the time to enjoy the stages, i don't miss them when they're gone. because i'm too busy enjoying the one we're in now. 

do i do that perfectly? ha, no. many {ok, most} days i don't do it anywhere close to well.

but when i approach it with gratitude i can see the amazing pieces we've already lived, and i can appreciate where we are so much better. 

i can appreciate all of the years my babies used our highchair. and i can appreciate the fact that they don't need it anymore. 

there are amazing things about each stage. that doesn't mean that some of them aren't a huge pain in the tail, but it does mean that i can be grateful for my babies, and also be elated that they're growing and changing and turning into amazing people. 

so our kitchen will now enjoy a little more space, and our baby girl will take her place at the table. and i'll remind myself {again} to be grateful for what's right in front of our faces at this moment. 

at this moment i'm enjoying the quiet after bedtime. the kids growing in their beds. the books next to my bed. and the keystrokes putting down my thoughts. 

amazing grace. all of it.

xoxo