Mom Needs Grace

Musings on the life redeemed & purpose redefined

3.833 August 30, 2011

Filed under: Milestones — dayna @ 11:55 pm

“They grow up so fast.” Everyone says it. And we know it is true. I marvel daily at the changes. At the things they learn.

I want to capture every single moment. I try snapping photos and scribbling quotes, but nothing comes close to the fullness of who she is right now. Last year I hoped to write a post for her third birthday, but…uh, I hadn’t started a blog yet. Then she was three and a half. And then I blink and yet another month has passed. Now I find myself praying that a post for her upcoming fourth birthday will do her justice. So I am thinking I will try a new approach…

Inspired by some of my friends who are expert chroniclers, I am hoping to post at least a little monthly something about each of my girls on her “day.”

So for now, my big girl:

You are a daring dreamer.

Your eyes sparkle with wonder as your brain sizzles with questions.

There is no end to your imagination. The endearing self-narration is giving way to all-day storytelling. You spend hours planning elaborate celebrations and shows with your Little People and Breyer Horses.

You have confidence and friendliness to spare. Introductions and friendships emerge swiftly for you.

You are fascinated by Peter Pan and princesses, and thoroughly enjoy all things “dress up.” You are miles ahead of your mom in the fashion department. You choose dresses every single day and accessorize like a pro with rainboots, umbrellas, hats, and crowns.

You love doing “preschool,” art projects, and playing games.

You are breathtakingly beautiful and oh-so-strong. Your physical abilities continue to grow as you climb trees, learn to swim, and skip everywhere.

You astound me with your sense of direction and scare me a bit with your incredible memory.

You recently offered that someday you would like to be a princess, a ballerina, a doctor, a zoo-keeper.  All four, my dear?

You still have the faintest lisp that I fear will be gone all too soon.

Your laugh, my girl. Oh, that laugh. It is the purest gift to the world. Reckless, infectious, and a trademark practically since birth.

You are the sweetest big sister. Now, even when you are frustrated, you are attentive. I overhear you giving gentle instruction and encouragement. You intentionally soothe, entertain, and lavish affection on “your” baby girl. And she adores you.

Somehow you simultaneously push limits and aim to please.

Your mind and spirit are vast and soaring. You remember your dreams now, and enjoy recounting them to me in the morning. You ask big spiritual questions with beautiful insight. We talk of heaven and hearts, of God and babies.

You are an imaginative creator and an adventurous leader.

 

last class August 24, 2011

Filed under: Milestones,sisters — dayna @ 11:55 pm

The last class of the summer ballet session was scheduled for a few weeks ago.

The ballerina sweetly tolerated my first attempt at a bun. (I pretty much used everything but duct tape in there).

The instructor had mentioned that the girls could wear whatever they liked to their final class. Naturally, in our world, that meant a flashy crown, tutu, and “Hello, Kitty” socks.

She practiced some moves to warm up…

…and then learned that her dear teacher had fallen ill. What do you mean no class?

How about pancakes instead? At a resturant? Well, okay…

Later there may have been a small flash mob style recital in a certain local IHOP lobby.

Thankfully, class was rescheduled for the following week. For some reason though, I still prefer these shots…

Just for fun- any tips for making a good bun?

 

unexpected gratitude August 6, 2011

Filed under: Faith,Milestones — dayna @ 12:00 am

On a tough day, it may seem like a thankless job. All this planning out, caring for, responding to, pulling together, sometimes “just doing the best we can” parenting gig.

But then, something beautiful happens, and oh, how it can rejuvenate a spirit. How it makes life sparkle and all seem so worthwhile again.

The little one recently started thanking us. Really thanking us.

Without prompting and with effusive gratitude.

With huge round eyes, clear words, upturned mouth.

“Tank coo, Mommy.”

“Tank coo, Daddy.”

“Tank coo, sisser. Walcom.” She often replies to herself:).

She thanks us for everything: a snack, a drink, a book, a blanket, a diaper change, a nursing session, even tickles. It’s kind of pathological, really.

But it is soothing balm.

Her sincerity stops my hurried spirit. Brings a smile. It allows peace and joy to come rushing back.

This sweet gratitude from the most unexpected tiny place.

She gently reminds me that the answer to any dilemma, the cure for any wrong attitude of mine, can be found in thankfulness.

I only hope and pray that my gratitude is similar sweet music to His ears.

Even when it is deliberate, often clumsy. Please… let it be this sincere.

Let it be this pure.

May my soul simply breathe “Thank you, Father.”