Little Boys, Sometimes

 

 

Little boys sometimes leave the seat up

 and have dripping wet hands even though they dried them.

Little boys sometimes put their clean clothes in the laundry

and wear their dirty ones again.

Little boys sometimes nod and say okay

even while their finger is still in their nose.

But,

 Little boys always skip when they are happy

and sing to themselves in the bathroom.

Little boys always do things just for the feel of it

and willingly share their treats.

Little boys always forgive right away

and are brimming with ready love.



Bath Day

On Saturdays I give the children their good bath.  

The one where I clean out their ears.

Afterward I hold each pink, soft little hand and trim their nails.  

I brush their hair to lie smoothly on their heads

(it will be every which way when they wake up).

Their faces are sparkly with splash induced smiles.

Their eyes are happy.

I put my arms around their little bodies.

Bodies that are becoming lanky, gangley arms and legs trying to fold up onto my lap.

Little E's still do.

Big E's spread out to dangle all around me.  

During the week I have to gather up the scraps of energy left at the end of the day, often I choose stories instead of baths when there's not enough for both.

All that hurrying and noise at the end of the day.

Saturday graces us with time.

When the week is over I look forward to working the lather through their hair.

Their  peaceful upturned faces as I slowly pour water over their backs. 

All week I make them do everything they can do for themselves.

They do lots of jobs for the family.

They do lots to help me.

This time I do for them.

It is a gift.

It feels like love.

When they are all tucked in 

with as many hugs as they want, as much time as they need,

After soft cheeks and kisses have been pressed into palms, to keep there till morning,

I feel so happy. 

So lucky that I have them.

That they are mine to wash and trim and brush.

To care for someone in such a way, meet their most basic needs

I feel is an honor.

A trust.

I will keep it.

And know that it is good. 

First Day

My precious, precious

My sweet, sweet treasure

My special boy

He is gone today

to kindergarten

His warm brown eyes 

so like his Father's

are sparkling and bright

He stands up tall 

smiling proudly

He is a tiny bit nervous

I see it

in the way he holds his Daddy's hand

while they stand for me to take their picture

But mostly he is interested

to find out what it will be like

I hold back all my reminders

about listening and choosing the right

Smile my biggest smile 

and wave and wave and wave

My special boy

My treasure

I hope the world is good to him

He will be so good for the world.  

You know you live in the north when...

"Oh look, look Mom!"

Big E called me over with surprise and excitement in his voice.

I quickly came to the window expecting to see a fancy new garbage truck driving by.

"Look!"

There between the roof tops we saw it.

A strip of blue sky.

The clouds were lifting.

"What does it mean?

Is the sun coming back?"

Yes

Yes it is.

Another sign of spring.

(or at least the finiteness if winter)

From the Mouths of Babes

Have been feeling so bad.  All kinds of awful thoughts in my head about how I don't like my life (but I really do), being a mom, thinking how bad I am at it, wishing I was doing something else (but I don't even know what), how much I do wrong and thinking how I don't even deserve the children I have and how I probably shouldn't have any more and subject them to me and how maybe (dare I say this aloud?) I made a 

huge mistake

that there's no way to fix. 

Trying to figure it out, wanting to be more grateful for all of the goodness and what I have and just wanting to get over myself and be better at everything I'm hating about myself. 

 Begging Heavenly Father to help me, please.

Because I'm trying really hard to 'fulfill my calling' but I don't like it and it doesn't make me happy though I've always been told it should.  I'm sitting there with all these words big and loud and sneakily whispering in my head asking Heavenly Father for help.

Big E (at whom I'd just yelled) looks straight at me and says, 

"Mommy, I love you.  

You are my very best Mother."

With his clear brown eyes and his beautiful face gazing at me there was my answer.  All my bad thoughts washed away in one wave.  Big E is my own miracle and the answer to my torment. With those words spoken right then I have reassurance that is more than just the warming of my heart from the words of my sweet son.

I am doing what I am supposed to do.  

Even though it's not what I dreamed of doing while I was growing up.  It's not what I wished and hoped to do    (though it's pretty much where my imagination of reality ended since it's all I was taught to picture for my future.)  I am doing what I am supposed to be doing and for being obedient Heavenly Father will help me figure it out and help me find the way to be happy while doing it. 

This is my weapon for when these dark thoughts come creeping in again.  I will remember that I have this to fight them off with.  From the perfect lips of my son came God's answer to my prayer and I'll take that answer in all it's possible meanings.  

I still have a lot to figure out, and now I feel like that is possible. 

P.S.  This is not a cry for pats on the back and affirmations that I am a good mother.  

Has anyone ever felt remotely like this?  I'd love to know how you reconciled it.  

My Birthday Boy

My very special little boy is now four.  Not in any way a baby any more. I miss that little baby so much.  I was so proud of him for just existing.  He was so amazing and smart.  He was so much better than the other babies (I'm sure yours was too).  I pretty much thought he was a grown up by the time he was six weeks.  Looking back at pictures of his sweet little toddler self I feel a little sad, a deep sadness and a longing to have him little like that again.  So I can savor it.  Just hold him gently and look and look and drink him in.  Stroke his chubby cheeks and smooth his soft hair.  Let him be a tiny person and not expect him to be a big one.

It's not too late though.  I can still to that with him now.  I can let him be four and not expect him to be six (or eight).  I can enjoy his four year old quirks.  I can explore things he is interested in with him.  I can not be rushing him to the next stage.  I am excited for where we are now.  It is really enjoyable to talk with him, listen to his ideas.  It feels so good to see his brown eyes wide with wonder at new discoveries.  He asks questions about everything, loving to understand the world.  I'm glad I realized this in time.  In time to enjoy the rest of his childhood.  Then when I look back I will feel such satisfaction knowing that I am enjoying it while I am in it.  And I will only feel love and peace remembering my four old boy and the way we savored being four together.

There are great things to come for him.

My special little boy.