There are more things for me to give thanks for than minutes in a day. One that has come recurringly to my attention is this precious baby, Tate. Every once in awhile I flash back to my last baby (Livia), which is really the only baby I remember with much lucidity. And I am so thankful.
Tate doesn't cry EVERY time I change his clothes or his diaper. Livia did. Tate simply doesn't seem to mind this much at all.
Tate doesn't cry through each entire bath. Livia did. I think Tate likes it.
Tate doesn't spit up after every feeding. I think Livia did. If not each time, then most. (see, I'm taming my tongue from exaggeration! The Lord has chastened me.)
Tate doesn't cry every time we ride in the van. Livia did.
Tate doesn't cry without likely cause as Livia did.
In general, we have a pretty happy, easy-to-understand son. He cries when he is uncomfortable (wet, tired, gassy, soiled, hurt, etc.). He can be soothed. He rolls with the craziness of our days. Livia was easily bothered by many things and irked that she couldn't do all that her big brothers did. She still wants to be able to do everything- which is great, and it isn't. She would gladly feed, burp, change, bathe, and put Tate to bed if I would let her. If she were 8 or 10 instead of 2 I could take a little vacation! Her intense personality challenges and blesses me, and for it I give thanks. But I'm also REALLY thankful for the sweetness and congeniality of my Tatey (as Liv calls him). God is so good to us! FOUR blessings!
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