she is not ours.

"I can't believe you're already out and about so much. And she's such a good baby. You seem like you've done this forever. You're like.. supermom!"

I smiled and said thank you. Lets be real.. there have been a few times during this almost-8-week journey that has been "surviving" mostly where I have felt like SuperMom.

Like the first Sunday we made it to church, both dressed, in time to hear Sam teach, and Quinn slept like an angel the whole time (I know you mamas with 2+ kids are laughing at me, but it felt impossible, seriously).

Or the first time I breast fed in public-- in the bleachers at a high school football game on what was surely was the windiest day in September.

Or at Quinn's 2 week checkup when the doctor expected her to be back to her birth weight and then she had passed it by 8 oz just drinking the milk my body is producing.

It's times like these that I want to go to a bathroom with a big mirror and look myself up and down, put my hands on my hips, flip my perfectly fixed hair, and say to myself, "You freakin rock at this."

And then, there are other times...

Other times like the night I stood over her crib for 15 minutes trying to get her to take a paci and go to sleep, frustrated that she wouldn't until I realized she had a terribly dirty diaper that had exploded all over her clothes.

Or the time I heard her fussing while I was doing laundry and came around the corner to find she had fallen out of the MamaRoo and was face down on the carpet (when she was 2 weeks old).

Or the day she woke up with a huge scratch on her cheek from her tiny hands flailing in her sleep, so I decided to trim her nails during which I clipped her skin and made her bleed (and scream).

It's times like these that I fret over for a few minutes and then I kiss her head and I say "My bad, babe. Probably won't be the last time." And alas, it probably won't.

But the good news is that Sam and I both know this:

Quinn is not ours. 

She is on loan to us. We were chosen and are extremely blessed to be her parents and teach her how to navigate this world, but she does not belong to us. She is God's, and He is her ultimate keeper.

He loves her more than we do.
He knows her better than we ever will.
He has bigger plans for her than we do.
He has her in the palm of His hand, always.

So heres to all the future falls off the bed and bumps on the head and times we yell when we should hug and things we forget that are important, and all the other ways we will let you down, baby girl. Because inevitably, we will. But even when we don't do the best by you, God's got you, cause you're His.

And that brings all the comfort in the world to a mama who won't always get it right.