Shoes for Two Year Olds

Life is good: we all have our own shoes to wear and they fit just right!

My dear child,
I know that over the past several weeks, you have developed a great love for wearing the shoes of everyone in our family. And I enjoy watching you clomp around the house, smiling and giggling. It must feel very strange and silly to have those very big shoes hanging off of your tiny, little feet.

As I was watching you stomp, clomp, and boom around the living room today--in sheer delight, mind you--a thought came to my mind and I felt compelled to share it with you.

It is perfectly okay with me if you want to keep trying on daddy's, mommy's, and big brother's shoes. Trying on is just fine. But it is my ardent goal that as you grow, you will only try to fill the shoes of one person--you.

Daddy loves sports and I love art. Our house is filled with music. I hope you, at least, develop an appreciation for these things and the other things that interest us--books and travel and nature. And I pray that you are influenced by your parents' belief that education and preparation are important, that faith gets you through the tough times and makes the good times even better, that loyalty, honesty, and generosity are building blocks for a happy life.

It appears that you have inherited my enthusiasm and your daddy's persistence. I pray that both of these things will serve you as a strength. We will do our best to help you prevent them from being weaknesses. You are like your brother in many ways. And why wouldn't you be? You have the same DNA. I hope that your similarities will bond you further and make you enjoy time spent with each other. That you two will be good friends, not just siblings. That you will like each other as well as love each other. With all of this said, I don't want you to ever try to "fill our shoes", replicate, or copy us or anyone, for that matter. I want you to be you. I believe that God created you in a very intentional way. I believe he has a great plan and purpose for you--for each of us-- and I often pray that God will grant me what I need as your parent to encourage, emphasize, and empower you to be the person He intended you to be.

This means that while I would love for you to beg for art classes and daddy would be thrilled if you asked to practice shooting hoops and I am sure that your brother would like for you to do all of the things that he loves to do, I want for you to pursue what interests you. And I will do my best to be your head cheerleader, biggest fan, and ardent supporter. Karate, karaoke, juggling or judo. Piano or tuba, knitting or hackysack. (Oh, please not hockey or football or race car driving and other things that make for easy concussions!) Horseback riding, lacrosse, soccer, toothpick model making or cup stacking. French, Spanish, Portugese, or Chinese. World record breaking, basket weaving, geocaching, scuba diving, book making (as in notebooks not betting, please!). If it is your passion or you think it might be your passion, your daddy, brother and I will be there yelling the loudest (or whispering if it is chess club).

Ever since I even guessed that I might be pregnant with you, I have been wondering and dreaming and guessing about what you would be like. It has been a great joy to watch you grow and your character develop. The past six months have been especially wonderful as you have shown yourself to be so full of personality, spunk, and humor. I will never get tired of hearing you sing songs or giggle what could quite possibly be one of the two greatest sounds in the world (the other being your big brother's laugh). I love that you are the first to say, "Hi!" to any little person within ear shot and most other people, too. Your observation skills baffle me. You are joy-filled even when in need of a nap.

So I continue to salivate at the idea of your personality unfolding more. It is such a pedestrian phrase..."there is no one in this world exactly like you". And yet, it is such a profound statement if you truly ponder it. You are the only you in this entire world and I want for you to embrace that. Let it empower you. Let it guide you. Your family will be alongside to help you navigate. But we'll each wear our own pair of shoes. Just right for each one of us.

How to Get Yardwork Done While Parenting a Toddler

Life is Good: we accomplished a lot!

Seedlings did not get planted. Mulch was not spread. The outdoor furniture is not clean nor is the paint touched up. The patio is a mess. A. Mess.
But there were smiles. And giggles. And bursts of laughter. Joy was accomplished. Fun was achieved. The morning was a success.

"Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time." -Marthe Troly-Curtin

Parenting Young Children

Life is Good: our toddler's in charge!

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I’m a planner. I am the joyful list-making daughter of a make-a-list-and-mark-it-off mother. It is in my DNA. That is how I get things done. And today, while the big kid was at school, the wee one and I were going to read books and work on puzzles. That was the plan.

Umhmm.

Well, the little one, whom has had a mind of his own and has not been shy about showing it SINCE THE WOMB, had other ideas. Every time I started to read a book this morning, he would close the book, shake his head, and put the book away. At first, I thought I had just been picking the wrong books. Remember the whole "mind of his own" comment. After numerous attempts, I conceded and pulled out the puzzles. It was part of my plan for the morning, after all.

Nope. Nuh uh. Not gonna happen. Puzzle pieces pushed away, head shaking emphatically, the little one jibber jabbered a long, run-on sentence with the enthusiasm and intensity of a drill sergeant and then climbed up into the rocking chair in his room. Not quite satisfied, he furrowed his brow, tugged on my sleeve and pulled with all his might—a forceful invitation to join him. I obliged, of course. We sat side by side and I began to rock the chair gently and slowly. I turned to him and asked what it was that he would like to do. Eyes bright and wide, he began to sing (in the sometimes clear, sometimes garbled way a 22-month old sings) the song, “Michael Row the Boat Ashore”. So I accompanied. And he smiled. And there we sat, rocking, singing, smiling together.

I don’t know which was sweeter, the sounds of a 22-month old “singing” the word, “hallelujah” or the closeness, the outpouring of love, the contentment that seemed to ooze around and all over us.

I tried to stay present and keep my thoughts specifically on the sweetness of the moment, but my mind did linger---to thoughts of gratitude…for getting to be a mama, for getting to be a mama to this extraordinarily sweet boy, for this precious, precious time in our lives. And thoughts of how fleeting this time really is. Gosh, why does life seem to be on fast forward?

But for a half hour or so this morning, life was on pause. Or rather, “replay”. Singing those simple words over and over. Blue eyes looking into blue eyes. Smile…giggle…smile again.

Books were not read. Puzzles were not solved. But time was savored. Love was shared.  My child asked for my time and my attention and I gave it over to him freely, in the way that he needed it. Which was what I needed, too. Today, I think I confirmed to my child that he can feel free to share his needs with me. And that I will be open and interested and help him navigate through it all. And my child showed me, once again, that in this journey of parenthood, sometimes I am the teacher and sometimes I am the student. And often, we are both at the same time.

I went ahead and marked “books and puzzles” off of my to-do list. And over it, I wrote, “relish the moment”.

                                                                         

 “The sweetest memories are right here, in the moments we create and share with one another.” –Katrina Kenison