Living in the trenches

The word Trench corresponds to other words evoking less than idyllic pictures including, ditch, trough, rut, and drain. If you've ever watched a WWI film, you'll likely imagine a type of depression in the ground that is deeper than it is wide and narrower than it is long, not an optimal places to set up a camp. The claustrophobic side of me shivers at being called to those trenches, yet the very concept of a trench was meant for safety. Some would say leaving the trench meant imminent death, while others felt temporary insanity being forced to remain in one. Trying to get above ground without suffering physical or emotional turmoil was virtually impossible. I'm certain that more than one brave soldier celebrated a birthday, anniversary, or holiday in those trenches, making them all the more heroic. I dare not compare any portion of my life to that of World War heroes, but I'll speak to the expression that I'm "living in the trenches" right now.
My birthday last week was not a akin to a trench birthday, but it also wouldn't be described as a great one. The ages, needs, issues, and seasonal problems my boys are facing right now added with the annual work trip that took my husband away for several days, equated to many tears, tantrums, and turmoil on the actual anniversary of my birth. However, repeating the classic parental lesson, "the world does not revolve around you," has began to sink into my own selfish bones. My eldest son actually teed up this teaching when he said, "but your birthday should be all about you." This may be what our culture would lead you to believe, but it is not reality. There is a barrage of advertisements calling for the "i" living, so I must be a small voice choosing to whisper the opposite, even if I must whisper it over and over again until I believe it myself. I know, deep down, we need less and less of ourselves. Thus, a "trench" kind of birthday is exactly what our great physician described.

A trusted mother recently shared some of the wisdom that she was bequeathed regarding raising her teenage sons: do not expect the worst, but don't assume he best. In other words, I shouldn't cynically assume my sons won't ever speak to me when they are teenagers; simultaneously, I should never think they won't also gravely disappoint me in their adolescence. This paradox proves true in my current trench. As with each of our children, months three to six seem the most difficult and not necessarily because of the sweet baby. Rather, our other small children (since we seem to have an annual child) have their own developmental challenges making for a natural stew of stress when combined with illness and sleep deprivation. But I refuse to accept that I must simply endure the next few months of hard and just assume the worst. I also won't assume it'll be a piece of birthday cake. Instead I believe it is a delicate balance of humble pie and quiet laughter. There are moments when I feel the trench closing in around me, but then the grace of God wipes away the tears and shows me that I'm actually living in a stream of safety. Without the trench, I'd be an open target for cynicism.

Our littlest Luca is proving that the "L" boys tend to have more medical issues. With croup, bronchitis, and stridor now mixing with an ear infection, Luca is still having breathing issues that require us to visit a specialist tomorrow. He seems absolutely normal and happy some moments, and then gasping for air at other times. Please pray we can get him on the healthy track soon.

I turned my head for a moment and Luca was smiling at his brother Roman who was soothing him with his touch. I couldn't help but pause the desire to keep germs away, and instead smile back with a snapshot

Thanks to Dee Dee, I got to sneak away for a quick date with this big boy. Whenever I get my kids alone, I'm amazed at how they are designed and growing. 

Again, I sat little Luca down next to me to change a different diaper, and I found this sweet moment happening.

Despite his breathing, this is one of the happiest babies in the world.

When the trench keeps you up all night, pull out the big guns and go back to sleep. 

Levi has always had a "complicated" arched palate as noted at his recent dentist appointment. Cranial-facial surgery is always mentioned. But I'll cheer for the fact that this kid also has an "advanced" palate.  He eats everything including, beats, broccoli and black coffee!

When he smiles or sleeps my heart rests a little easier. 

~Trench Buster