Just One Hour With My Daughter

      Oh, my sweet daughter. She's my little delight. She's certainly beautiful on the outside with her golden locks and her sparkling blue eyes but she's absolutely amazing on the inside. Three has been a rough age for sure. I learned pretty quickly when I was around lots of different kiddos working in a daycare that the third year made the second year seem super easy. I couldn't have comprehended then how truly challenging it is to deal with a preschool-aged kid. My sweet firstborn love, in particular, was a high-need baby and she continues to be a very sensitive little soul. She's like the exact opposite of the Grinch. Her heart is 50 times bigger than normal and every little thing affects her deeply.

     It's been a long time since we got some one-on-one time. New baby siblings make that more complicated than normal. Today we got out for an hour just me and her. It wasn't a big deal. I was just making a quick trip to Target for some random groceries. I took her along while hubby watched the other two. One whole hour.

    She talked and talked and talked. Undivided attention is a rare treat when you are one of three kids under three. She soaks it all in. She let me into her world for that hour.

     We saw a school bus. She told me about going to school and playing with kids. She told me she wanted to learn about bones and letters and all the animals.

     She saw some big houses and told me we should get a big, big house for lots of kids and lots of animals. She wants a pink pillow and three new books and she likes the sky when it's blue but it's just grey and cold right now but when the sun comes up it gets blue, blue, blue again.

    We saw a horse and a cow. "Where are their babies?" she asked. "They'll be so sad without their babies with them." And she continued telling me all about the horse and the cow and  their babies (that we've never met or seen before).

     She told me how the stop lights work ("red means stop, STOP, NOW and green means go real fast"). She told me how her carseat keeps her safe and she shouldn't unbuckle it. She told me how she wanted to go to the park and library again soon. She told me she likes it when mama is happy and not sad or angry.

    She asked to stop before we left just to look at all the Valentine's cards and we did. She admired the colors and the glitter and the hearts. "Why are these here for mama?" she asked. "For Valentine's day." I replied. "Well, I just like Valentine day." she smiled. 

    I let her choose some juice and some cereal. She chose to think of her sister. She picked out things Sweet Pea (2 years) would like and told me that Little Buddy (3 months) "just only needs milk from mama though".

   We talked and talked about so much more.

   She told me and a stranger and the cashier how much she loves her sister and brother.

   She fell asleep in the car on the five minute drive home telling me about her "body book". (She's fascinated by bones and organs! our genius. we love it!).  It was just an hour but it was an hour well spent. I hope and pray she can always talk to me but I know there will be times she chooses someone else to share her sweet heart with instead of Mama. Whoever they are they are in for a treat and I pray they appreciate her heart as much as I do (not that I believe it's really possible). I want to always remember these moments. 


  

    

Young Kids Aren't As Selfish As People Like to Think

      This Christmas season has been different for me. I have such a natural joy in my soul. Honestly. I’m not trying to be a cheeseball. It’s like my perspective of the whole holiday has broadened. My thoughts aren’t so narrow and selfish as they used to be. Though, I have a long way to go still.

     I’m attributing these changes in me to my children. Having three people become the priority in your life over yourself in every way is a challenge but it has the potential to create beautiful change. I hope that’s what it does for me, anyway. Even being married is a learned prioritization of another over yourself. You have to make yourself do it. It's not like that for me with my kids. I wear myself ragged trying to do and be everything for them. Something about having children, at least for me, is absolutely humbling (in the most vividly real meaning of the word) and I doubt I'm the only one to feel that way. I can visualize all of the potential on the paths at their small feet.

     At the same time, I see the inborn ills of humanity in my children. I see greed and vanity and selfishness during this holiday season. As their mother, I realize my whole life purpose now is to guide these small loves of mine to compassion, love, and selflessness. I can’t show these things without learning them myself and all of this is, by far, the hardest thing I’ve ever needed to do.

     I see my sweet, spirited Bitty Bug gazing at all the stuff in the catalogs and in the store. “I want . . . I want . . . I want. . .”. I don’t think there is anything wrong with simply wanting things. At just three years old, she is still so innocent and unaware. She just sees these dazzling ads, beautiful dolls, and fun toys and she just inherently has the urge to possess it all. I think there is a problem though when you become unfoundedly entitled, envious, or obsessed with getting more and more. This is fueled early and easily in our society. We are surrounded with consumerism and greed. We let it take us over. I want an alternative experience for my kids but I want balance too. I don’t want to cut out gift giving or go straight to homemade-only presents (honestly, that would be much more work on my part, right now!) I just want to start curbing these gut reactions in my Bitty Bug.

    So, we decided to have our little daughters (Bitty Bug, 3.5 and Sweet Pea, 2) pick out gifts for each other and their new baby pumpkin. I was thrilled with them. We explained to them on that shopping trip that we were “thinking about brother and sister” today and not ourselves. I took Bitty Bug with me and the hubster took Sweet Pea. I just kind of walked around the store and asked what she thought her sister would want or need. “What do you think her favorite color is?” and “Which one of this or this would she like better?” I wanted her to be focused on thinking of someone else. That’s a very big thing for a 3 year old to do! VERY big! She pointed out some things she wanted. She told me about all her dinosaurs (again). She initially wanted to get one thing for her sister but it was way over the little budget I gave her (5 dollars). Then, as we went down one more aisle, I noticed a little dress up purse and pointed it out to her. “What do you think of this?” and she gasped and exclaimed “Look! It’s pink! [Sweet Pea] has that one. It’s pink for her. I have a purple sparkle purse. I put all my crayons in it. [Sweet Pea] wants that one. Yeah.” I was delighted. Same thing for Pumpkin. She saw a wooden, rainbow stacking toy and decided “He will like those colors! He can play with me!”. I know I beamed with pride. It might seem like such a silly thing but she showed so much thought and she was so happy to pick those things out herself. Sweet Pea had picked out things for her sister and brother that I would’ve picked out myself. A little yellow car for Bitty Bug and a tiny stuffed monkey for Pumpkin. Bitty Bug LOVES hot wheels and she also likes the color yellow (second only to pink and purple and sparkles). I don’t know if my 2 year old is really that intuitive or if it’s a perfect coincidence. On Christmas day, I’ll have them give those gifts to each other instead of just putting them under the tree. We’ll definitely do the same thing next year.

     Although, I may be doing shopping the day before Christmas to keep things a surprise between them because Bitty Bug has told Sweet Pea about her pink, sparkly purse only 15 times now. Somehow it all goes right over Sweet Pea's head or she simply doesn’t hear it. Then again, when my sister and I bought each other Christmas presents we almost always ended up giving up hints and guessing what we got each other before Christmas morning!

Parenting: Their First Foundation

     We have two daughters and a son on the way. Blessed is an understatement. Blessed is the understatement of the century.

     Parenting is a radical experience. That's the best way I know to describe it. Even the moments leading up to a first pregnancy or adoption form a part of this crazy experience. It's so normal, the majority of humankind experiences it. But, it is unexplainable that with however many millions before me having gone through this relative experience it still remains an experience that is so mystifying, overwhelming, and surreal. It is unexplainable that as many millions before me have gone through the heartache, the challenges, and the risk of becoming parents that we (I) still jump into the role so willingly.

     I love my children beyond good reason. I could talk about my girls for days. I'm all ready deeply in love with my boy. They fascinate me. They thrill me. They challenge me. They make me better. I've never tried to change so much of myself for the better for someone, not even my husband. I want to give them everything. Sometimes I want to be their everything (which is a perpetual insanity). When I do things, make decisions, or weigh options for anything I think of my husband and I think of them. I've lost my old self to this inherent new identity and there will never be a way to get the person I was back (not that I'm terribly in want of her, that's a whole other post). It's amazing.

Until you're in the midst of it there is no way to fathom it.

    My first job was at a daycare. I enjoyed it a lot. I learned a lot. There were so many different kids and parents for me to observe. I thought for sure I'd have parenting down by the time I had my own kids aside from not knowing exactly how my own kids would be. I saw what worked and didn't work with different kids. I saw what different parents tried or would never attempt. I saw them upset over little things. I saw them irrationally calm over what I thought were big things. There was - with every single parent - a feverish desire to provide their children with the best. After working there for almost 2 years I thought I had a pretty good idea of how I'd be as a parent. It's laughable now because I could never have been more wrong. I misunderstood so much. As much as I adored my little classes and judged the numerous parents on their every move I simply had no freaking clue. None. Sure, I could do the mechanical things: prepare a bottle of formula or breast milk, change a diaper, potty train a willing kid, show them flashcards, read them books, fix their snacks, put them down for naps, and show them new toys or games or songs. At the end of the day, they were not mine. Their very little, bright, sweet souls were not my load to bear. My duty was only to them in the minutes and hours they were with me and even then the ultimate responsibility was on their parents, present or not. Often, I may have thought it was good of us teachers to give our time to these babes: teaching them bible verses and praise songs, showing them letters and numbers, disciplining bad behavior, and modeling good behavior but ultimately we stood in as temporary extensions of their parents. We were a provisional choice made by the parents! All that to say, I had no idea what I was really getting into . . .

     Parental love is illogical, self-defeating, burdensome, and it ought to be feared. The beauty of this intransigent human connection nullifies any single thing we bring against ourselves as we become parents. The sleeplessness, the unkempt dress, the loss of free income, the loss of time alone. Even our bodies our not solely our own anymore whether we carry a fetus through pregnancy, nurse a new baby (whether it's for a month or through toddler-hood), or simply neglect our own self-care in order to prioritize that of our child. Those are just the "shallow" things (and they really aren't all that shallow are they?).

     They are "ours" we say. They are "ours" to mold and teach, love and comfort, direct and encourage. We are their first foundation. I think that's what moms and dads really are in the end. We are the foundation these beauties of ours are built upon. A lot of people never realize this. A lot of people (like me) don't totally see this picture of parenthood until AFTER the offspring has arrived. Some, unfortunately, never see it coming or never realize the truth.

    What's a thousand times scarier than this is that we are only their temporary foundation. They are ours to lift up, ours to support, ours to enjoy and pour into and fall in love with. But. . . they are not ours to keep or to hold back or even, in the very end, ours to save.

    Imagine building a grand mansion down to the details of decor. Imagine putting your entire livelihood into it. Now, realize that every moment of work and every scrap of care you put into that structure was meant to be moved. It was meant to be designed for another place. It was meant to belong to someone else. It was never really yours in the sense things are yours.

   Imagine receiving a commission from the highest power on the planet for the most exquisite work of art you'd ever created. All the stress you would put into making it the best. All the material you would need to make sure you created a masterpiece.

   Imagine being given the most priceless jewel in the universe. It is yours to hold and keep and treasure until further notice. If you are diligent, you will be given the greatest gift of all. You put all of your time, energy, and focus on this thing. The time comes. The jewel is taken from your hands. The greatest gift of all time: knowing the jewel was cared for while you had it and perhaps the chance to see it shine someday.

    And that's how impossible and insane parenting really is . . . . It all starts with the first moments of their lives with you, then a slow and sure separation (one we are meant to guide and nurture to fruition!) that begins at the cut of the cord. No matter what, no matter what they become, whether they leave us early or stay with us longer than expected we are their first foundation. No matter what they change about themselves or where they go or what they do or who they give themselves to we are always their parents. We, my husband and I, will always be a part of them.


    And in the end of it all, I would never give this opportunity up for anything. Nothing can compare.

Fingerpainting Pinterest Craft!

This was FUN. And, it was EASY.

Here is the original.

I didn't use canvas or regular finger paint. We used crayola color wonder paper and finger paint.

I fixed up letters with blue painter's tape and put that over the paper then just let them have at it. A spare piece of cardboard I keep for things like this meant I didn't even need to wipe up the floor (much).




 Notice the cute toes of an eager toddler. I frustrate her muchly when I'm trying to get pictures of anything like this. She's always ready to get on with it!

 I barely let it dry for 10 seconds before taking the paint off. The nice thing about the crayola paint stuff is that it doesn't really drip and it dries fast anyway.

FIN!

It's kind of adorable. I didn't get any pictures of the actual painting, sadly. They need some serious refereeing when it comes to art and craft supplies. If I could just give them an empty white room and all the paint, markers, and crayons imaginable there'd likely be no space untouched. Think the inside of Rapunzel's tower in Tangled. haha Definitely . . . .

So there you have it! I'll either frame it for their room or put it in the "keep" folder for the kid-art scrapbook I honestly intend to put together someday.