The Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday

We were supposed to be napping. Instead, Dietrich wanted to play, after all, he is three. As he played with the pillows, blanket, and my hands, I found myself staring at my reflection in his eyes. I then began to wonder how this darling child sees me. Lately, I’ve been preoccupied with my own loss, feeling down (the Germany cloudy, foggy days are not helping) and irritated at every little thing. Transition alone is challenging. Dealing with a miscarriage on top of that is stretching my coping skills. But Dietrich doesn’t see any of that. He sees “mommy”. He trusts that I am here just for him; that I will take care of him, meet his needs, and be here all the time. He doesn’t see any of my other roles; that I am a daughter, sister, friend, granddaughter, aunt, cousin, niece, etc. He only sees “mommy”, the job I’ve wanted since I was a child myself, but also the job I’ve failed to do for a few weeks – or at the very least, the job I’ve failed to do well, to the best of my abilities, to nurture and grow into someone better than the day before. Each night, I say I will do better tomorrow, but each morning I wake up just as exhausted (Dietrich has been waking up a little earlier each day) and just as downtrodden and feeling just as guilty about those feelings, yet just as unable to overcome the burden. Last night I asked God for just enough strength to overcome the trials today would bring, to grant me the wisdom and patience needed to focus only on the trouble of one day, even one moment at a time, and to restore a joyful, thankful spirit in me, so that I don’t miss any precious memories with the child I have.

And what a difference a day makes!

309826_10150339383394779_1307549227_nThe rest of our FMO furniture (on loan from the Army) arrived today, including the wardrobes which309890_10150373884829779_283771831_n will we have for the remainder of our time here (closets are rare in Germany, though we do have a HUGE one in our master bedroom). Dietrich happens to love playing in the wardrobe. In the less than five hours since they’ve arrived, it’s been a tunnel, a bank, and a clothes dryer (not to mention a great place to hide). He has great capability for independent play; he just hasn’t had the right tools. How much more fun will he have when all of his toys arrive from the States?!

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