I feel so much better after venting my frustrations to people that don’t actually have to live with my kids! Now lest you think I lock my kids in a closet all day (which only happens when the moon is full) I will now share with you some of things that make me fall in love with them all over again.
Happy Love Thursday!
I love that my daughter shows her emotions. She’s almost always smiling but I love her eyes when she’s serious. They have such a depth to them. I love that she’s willing to try new things – even if it scares her. At the last Ren. Fair they had those trampolines with the elastic bands. They strap them to you and then you can bounce and flip to amazing heights. We stood and watched people jump. After awhile my daughter announced that it looked scary but she wanted to try it. About four bounces in she was ready to quit. But she faced her fears and tried something new. We recently went roller skating at a local rink. (yes, I left the house!) My daughter is anything but graceful. Or coordinated. Or patient. Attempting wheels on her feet could have been disasterous. She tackled the challenge with a smile on her face, laughing as she fell over and over again. I love my daughter.
My son is growing up with two sisters. He’s played with dolls, put on dresses and had his nails painted. I’m okay with that. He’s also played with cars, watched Monster Trucks and had a mohawk. I’m okay with that, too. When he learned to talk he stuttered fiercely. He grew and the stuttering stopped. He went through a phase where he was incredibly shy and wouldn’t talk to anybody for anything. He grew and became outgoing. I see him growing and changing so quickly now. He’s accomplishing physical challenges like mastering his Heeley’s and nailing a home run with a bat. His own sense of humor is emerging as he tells jokes. I love watching him come into his own. He’s becomming a little boy. Yes, I know, he’s been a boy all along but he is less influenced by his sisters now. In my heart he will remain my little stickboy. Even if he suddenly sprouts muscles. I love my son.
As often as I see my youngest struggling to keep up with her older siblings I just as often find her on her own. She has an independent spirit. She doesn’t wait to be invited to participate. She either barges her way in or runs off to do her own thing. I can look at her and see my older two reflected in her. But only bits and pieces. She has a fire in her that they don’t have. She’s the one that can’t resist dancing to music. I hear her singing to herself. She’s content to paint for hours. I watch her as she’s daydreaming outside. The child has no fear. If her brother and sister can do it so can she. And if they can’t then she’ll try anyway. The mothering side of me wants her to be cautious, to slow down, to wear only two pigtails and matching clothes. But the other side of me is cheering her on; Go, litte girl, be yourself. Go conquer the world. Go! I love my daughter.