Snowfall

There’s something magical about snowfall that gets me every time. As a native Texan transplanted to Pennsylvania, I haven’t grown accustomed to the regular snowfall. There’s a brand new excitement that accompanies those little white flakes each time they arrive. But after a few days, after the snow has settled, and the dirt and salt have mixed with the pure white, I get tired of it. I don’t particularly enjoy de-icing my car every morning or crunching throw the snow in and out of parking lots, and the snow eventually makes everything look dirtier instead of the crisp white beauty on the first day of snowfall.

There are probably a lot of things in our lives that mirror my feelings on snow. I’m so excited initially and then after a while, I forget about the excitement, settle into a routine and suddenly the magic is gone. When we brought Regan home from the hospital, I was overwhelmed at the care she needed but relieved and grateful to have her in our home. The same applied after her heart surgery. My feelings of relief and joy filled my heart as I knew Regan’s heart was repaired. We eventually settled into a routine of a life typical with a new baby at home. Although there are days of frustration and exhaustion, I’m trying not to lose our luster for her life.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t give thanks for her healing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have times of complacence. One of my favorite quotes is

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” –Albert Einstein

We are blessed to have a living miracle in our lives, but this quote still resonates with me. It’s so easy to forget the miracles we see in our own lives on a daily basis. Witnessing the human development is a constant reminder of God’s omnipresence in our lives, and the daily reminder is just what I need.

Regan has started babbling some new sounds this week, and I feel like we’re on the verge of a speech-splotion (speech-explosion). She started looking at me and saying “NANANANANA” and I REALLY feel like she’s trying to say “Mama” (that’s what I’m telling myself– roll with me, people). She’s consistently transitioning in and out of sit and she’s on the move all around the house. Our next big goal is for her to start pulling to stand (Lord help us), but I think we have some work to do before we get there. Sometimes I imagine Regan thinks, “these people are seriously never satisfied. I finally transition, sit and crawl, and they always want more!” Regan gives kisses (mostly to Walter), high fives and we are working on waving and blowing kisses. She loves veggie straws, dislikes puffs and cheerios, and we are working on straw drinking.

All of these little miracles are a blessing to all of us –think about all the miracles you have in your life!