I asked the girls to help me fold the laundry this afternoon.
I guess I needed to be more specific about what to DO with the laundry once it was folded!
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Motherhood is more than a collection of tasks (wipe this chin, make that bed, soothe those tears), more than a way to fill my days (get kids up, changed, dressed, fed, repeat), and so much more than an important role to play in a young life (teach this concept, mold that character). It’s a gift I’ve been given. My children are hand-picked for me, whether they are biologically related to me or not. My children are perfectly placed in my life at just the right time and in just the right way, whether they are pre-term, full-term, healthy or disabled. My children are entrusted to my care for as long as God sees fit, whether they are with me for hours, years or decades. This gift of motherhood is one I must unwrap moment-by-moment. I can’t fully appreciate my newborn while he’s screaming for a midnight feed, nor can I fully appreciate my preschooler while she’s throwing her third tantrum before breakfast. It takes being present every day and noticing the little steps, the growth on a minute scale. With each day, I can peel off a little more wrapping and get to see a larger glimpse of the developing personality beneath. Sometimes I wish I could rip the whole package open and know what’s in store, both to steel myself for the inevitable trials but also to encourage myself with a view of the God-designed finished product. But God doesn’t operate that way. Sometimes He gives me a sneak peek, like when I see my girls tenderly and voluntarily sharing with each other, and I breathe a little easier knowing that toddler-esque selfishness doesn’t last forever. Sometimes the gift feels heavier than I am capable of lifting, like when my children are sick, or when their disobedience tries my patience again and again. And sometimes the gift feels so brief, as if the unwrapping is going far too quickly. I look at the difference between my children today and my children a year ago, and it takes my breath away. How much more will they mature in the next year? What will the girls’ drawings look like? How much taller and stronger will my son be? What will my baby be doing? This gift of motherhood changes me, changes the way I look at my own mother. I constantly ask myself, how did she do it? How did she get dinner on the table every night? How did she answer our questions for the umpteenth time? How did she know just the right lullaby to sing at night? How did she manage to always make us feel secure, appreciated, valued, even when she was tired or we were cranky? How did she know that we loved her, even when we didn’t show it? How did she know the perfect words to say at the perfect time? How did she know we needed that extra hug or two or three? This gift of motherhood is undeserved, and I am humbled by God’s grace in bestowing it upon me. So I thank Him for His kind mercy. I thank my mom for her endless care. I thank my children for their sweet trust. And I thank my husband for his constant support. I am so grateful for this gift. I am not a fan of bugs. I can tolerate them outside, but I cannot tolerate them inside. So, with varying degrees of success, I’ve repeatedly coached my girls on the importance of keeping the screen door closed in warm weather. No matter how many times they run in and out, I constantly remind them to close the door behind them. For the most part, they remember, and my house stays bug-free. However, we’ve run into a problem. Jimmy can’t open the screen door by himself, and he likes to follow his big sisters on their errands in and outside. And since his sisters and I aren’t always responsive to his incessant cries for us to open the door for him, he takes matters into his own hands…er, head. He just buts his head against the screen door until one of us notices and complies. Well, today the weather was drizzly but warm, so I had sliding glass door open to let the breeze in. Jimmy decided he wanted to go outside. So he bumped his head against the screen door, and out he went. Without my help. The screen door just ripped. When I looked over and saw what had happened, I was at first dismayed. My screen door is broken, after all. But then I wondered if he hadn’t stumbled (or head-butted) upon some kind of perfect solution. Now, he can enter and exit at will, and the screen door simply flaps closed behind him. It’s like a Jimmy-sized doggy door. We’ll have to see how this works in practice (especially whether it’s still effective at bug screening), and how long the rest of the screen door holds up. In the meantime, Jimmy is mighty pleased with this new arrangement! We had Jimmy’s first birthday party yesterday and he was quite the party animal! He loved all the people, balloons, toys, and food. Come to think of it, so did the I! We all had a wonderful time, and it was really exciting to have my mom and sister here to celebrate with us. Here are a few pictures of our fun evening (featuring lots of cake!): Jimmy and his beloved Aunt Angie: The girls made sure Jimmy’s toys got plenty of attention while he played with Pappy’s keys: The “Cake Boss” I’m not!: Yum! Cake and friends – our two favorite things!: My big boy: He wasn’t sure about his party hat: But he sure liked the cake: And the big kids: Here are the videos!
I’ve never claimed to be a good photographer, or even an OK photographer. The whole art and science of photography is a mystery to me; I just point and shoot! Therefore, I am perfectly comfortable turning my camera over to others – even if they only stand three feet tall and can’t quite color inside the lines yet! Here are my daughters’ initial offerings (I’m sparing you the dozen other pictures that feature close-ups of fingers or fuzzy feet): Susie took this picture of a bed-headed Becky and I showing off a cardboard box that the girls decorated with crayons: By reasons of deduction, I am assuming Becky took this portrait of her smiley sister: And I’m not sure which girl took this last one, but I’m glad Jimmy stayed still long enough for a quick portrait! |
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