six months home
This is the face of an exhausted momma (physically, spiritually, and emotionally). This is the face of a little boy who is completely content in his momma's arms. He adores me, or at least the thought of me. I am sure that there are more competent, patient, loving, and qualified women out there who would love him better than I do, but God chose me. He didn't chose me because I was ready or equipped. Why did He call me to be Finn's momma? I ask myself that question on a daily basis. I am not equipped to handle the meltdowns (which are fewer and further between), the clinginess (this isn't technically a bad thing), the constant physical touch (I am not a physical touch person), the constant state of alertness of what everyone is doing or not doing (a.k.a. "tattling"), the relentless bickering with his siblings (that he mostly did not provoke), etc. I am simply not equipped. My daily, hourly, and sometimes minute-to-minute prayer cry out to the Lord
