Monday, February 14, 2011

One week at a time

Every week, I turn to a new page in my calendar. My life is measured by Fridays in the lab at work, by laundry day, by preschool days, by story time at the library every Thursday, by Sundays at Church when my dresses are a little tighter than the week before.

Every week the ticker on my blog moves ahead. My belly gets a little bigger. I get a little more tired and have to slow down a little more.

Every week, the sunlight lasts a little longer, it gets a little warmer and the sunny, nice days become more commonplace. Every week, the promise of spring gets a little bit closer. (And with that, the promise of meeting our new baby).

Every week Samuel makes a new discovery about his body, resulting in a new stage of what can finally be termed "potty training." One week I was simply setting a timer. The next week, he figured out how to go. The week after that, he figured out how to tell us when he had to go. This week, he is protesting a diaper at night time and challenging himself to stay dry at night. (Yes! This kid a month ago would have rather gone in a diaper his whole life!)

Every week, the idea of our tax return falling into our laps gets a little more real. We are that much closer to a new dishwasher, or new insulation in the attic, or a shed. And that much closer to a little lower balance on our credit cards.

Every week Leah learns to sight-read a couple more words.

Every week my house gets a little messier.

Every week the Christmas lights on the outside of my house look that much more out of place.

Every week, the crack in the car windshield creeps another half a centimeter, and the registration renewal date gets a little closer.

Every week, my roots grow in a little further and I remind myself to get that taken care of.

Every week I pick up a couple new books from the library.

Every week, two month old baby Zeke gets a little stronger and that much closer to heart surgery. I thought I was melancholy, but I'm not going through anything like this family.

And that is how I measure my life. One monotonous week at a time, waiting for Spring.