Jalynn turned three today. It's popular to say things like "Where did the time go?" or "Ah ... They grow up so fast" whenever your kid's calendar turns to another year. But tonight I can't honestly speak such phrases. They are not true to my inner timepiece, the one that feels like Jalynn has always been a part of our lives. Three years ago. Really? Is that all? That was three houses ago. Two states. A handful of jobs and positions, promotions and demotions. A fanfare-free transition from my cool twenties to the decade that I had always labeled "middle-age." There's been colic and fevers and teething and lots of tearful battles between Jalynn's curls and my evil comb. Jimmy and I have disciplined Jalynn together. We've built her up, sent her off, then disciplined her some more. We've argued some and kissed lots and are more of a team now than ever.
And oh ... how God has worked us.
So while the last three years haven't necessarily been the fastest of my life thus far. They have been the toughest and most breathtaking—hands down.
Inspired by a college friend and fellow blogger, Emily, I started a new tradition tonight, one I plan on continuing every June 28th for a long, long time. I held my sweet daughter in my arms as I told her the story of her birth. "Three years ago I had a baby in my tummy," I told her. "A little baby girl named Jalynn. Daddy and I went to a movie at the theater that night. A movie about animals and a big boat, like Noah." (Evan Almighty, in case you hadn't figured that one out.)
I went on to tell her about eating French toast at a restaurant, going to bed, and waking up in the middle of the night with a tummy ache. Daddy and I drove to the hospital where I put on a funny dress that looked like a sheet and laid on a bed with wheels. Then the doctor took baby Jalynn out of my tummy, and I held her for the very first time."
She was fascinated. Ate up every word. Then proceeded to tell me about the night the doctor took the baby out of her tummy. His name, she said, was Malakye.
Even though I can't write tonight about time flying, I do admit to tearing up three or four times today. This was one of them. After all, my baby isn't much of a baby anymore. And I'm not exactly sure how (or when, for that matter) that happened.