My friend Leah tagged me for this one. And she set the bar pretty high! She writes wonderfully about her two little guys, Nolan and Matthew, at "Say What".
5 Things I Love About Being A Mom
Good gracious. They’re growing like dandelions! But more than their size, I love watching my boys mature and develop. Sometimes faster and sometimes slower, sometimes with ease and sometimes with great frustration, we are making progress. They learn, they grow, they develop skills… from riding bikes, reading, swimming, building, long division, apostrophes, geometry, and spelling, to memorization, courtesy, self-control, and wisdom. We haven’t “conquered” all these things, but we’re making progress.
Who knew every single day could be such an adventure? From scaling the heights of Mt. Laundry, to creating an alternate universe (Dino-opolis), the boys have a way of making the mundane exciting. And me? I get to see ordinary things through fresh eyes. A lizard sheds his skin, and we are amazed. We stay up late to watch the Space Station float across the sky, and we are in awe. We get a pile of snow in December and we are ecstatic. I remember the day Tate (probably 3) came running to me in the kitchen, his eyes as wide as could be, and announced his epiphany breathlessly, “Mom! Veggie Tales are all FOOD! Talkin’ FOOD!”
3. Fullness of Joy
Not much is “ho hum” with kids. We won’t dwell on the downside of that equation, but the upside is the exuberance with which the boys devour life. They are the very definition of “whole-hearted”. They play soccer with every fiber of their being. They work on their “treehouse” (Kerry calls it a Bubba Shack) like their lives depended on it. You should’ve seen them last winter when the sanding truck came around and ruined their sledding hill. They were out there in minutes, with shovels and sleds, organizing anyone who would help into a brigade to haul snow from the neighbors' yards and spread it on the road, covering up the nasty sand.
Oh. My. Goodness. Of course, they’re the funniest when they don’t mean to be. I try to show that in the blog, but most of it goes by too fast to capture. But there are moments… like when we had Serena living with us and they taught her (barely 2 years old) to burp her ABC’s, or the time I had little Gunnar at the grocery store and we were in line behind a (teen? young man?) with a purple Mohawk and lots of goth/punk accessories. Gunnar looked him over, with wide eyes, and then announced, “Mama! He looks like a PORCUPINE!”
Hah! They may be getting bigger, but I still get plenty of lovin’!
I'm reluctant to tag anyone because it seems like a busy time of year. But if you want to play, leave me a message - I'd love to see what you have to say.