If You Would Just Come To Me

Dear Lewis,

Lately, you’ve been in the habit of having a great day right up until about an hour before I get home. Your mother loves you and I know she takes care of you. What I don’t know is why you become The Monster every evening around 4:30pm.

In the past we’ve been quick to comfort you when you cry. We pick you up, play with you, even give you snacks in an attempt to calm you. But, you’re 10 months old now. Maybe we should have started sooner but we decided a few days ago not to pick you up or drop whatever we’re doing every time you cry.

We’re not ignoring you. We haven’t abandoned you. We just want you to learn to come to us for the things you need.

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God Stopped Speaking…Thankfully

Dear Lewis,

Last time I wrote I suggested that one possibility for why God sometimes seems absent is that He knows we’ll seek Him more fervently if we don’t feel like He’s near. It was you staying where you were as long as you could see me, moving forward to follow me only when I ducked around the corner that put this train of thought in motion.

I also mentioned that lately I haven’t felt invigorated when studying my Bible, that the words lay flat on the page instead of jumping out at me like one of your pop-up books, the way it’s supposed to. I’m happy to say that changed yesterday.

It should come as no surprise to me by now that after hanging out with you today I’m beginning to understand why.

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Mountains and Marshmallows: A Letter From Sabrena Klausman

Dear Lewis,

When I was a kid, I used to beg my mom to buy the kid cereal; you know, the one chocked full of marshmallows. I was-still am, actually-crazy about those tasty morsels of sweetness. My reasoning for preferring the marshmallows was simple; the marshmallows were smooth and sweet, while the rest of the cereal was grainy and rough on my tongue. I remember informing my mom that I wish they would make a cereal that was only marshmallows.

Well, wouldn’t you know it? A few years later they made such a cereal. I am not ashamed to say I was first in line to buy this culinary delight. Boy, was I disappointed! It turns out that too much sweetness isn’t all that appetizing.

Eating straight sugar is gross.

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Too Much All At Once

Dear Lewis,

Last night Uncle Matt came over to work on music while your mom was at yoga. You were fussy, and demanded my attention the whole night. When it was time to eat you fought me, taking an hour to eat 4oz of food. Uncle Matt and I managed to be productive, in spite of your neediness.

I’d already had a taxing day, so by the time your mom got home, showered and ate dinner I was spent, overwhelmed, and ready for a new day.

Thankfully, you slept 9 hours straight. You missed a few feedings since you slept so long, so this morning you downed your normal 4oz. When the bottle was empty you started crying so I gave you another 2oz. You sucked that down, screamed again, so I gave you 2oz more.

After finishing 8oz total you were good. Or so I thought.

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I’m Working On It

Dear Lewis,

I love you, very much. But your life would be so much easier if you would just trust me. I know you need to eat every few hours. I know when you need a nap. I know you need to be changed when the blue line appears on the front of your diaper, or when smells, awful smells, emanate from the back.

I don’t get mad at you for crying over these things. I tell you I love you. I tell you I know how long it’s been since your last bottle or diaper change. I tell you that if you’ll just be patient and stop crying you’ll see I’m working on it.

But you don’t. When I walk out of the living room and into the kitchen – to make your bottle – you cry harder. When I put you in your crib – to keep you safe while I wash my hands, get a diaper and find you some new clothes – you scream louder.

Those moments when it looks like I’m abandoning you, that’s when I’m closest to giving you what you need.

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