Is it too early to hope for Spring?
I’m ready to say goodbye to grey skies and hello to warm weather. The other day I heard Carter say, “Dear God, please just make it summer.” My sun baby vibes must be rubbing off on him. Most mornings they ask to go outside—before breakfast. I wish it could be that easy, but muddy shoes tracking through my kitchen and wardrobe changes before 8:30 am doesn’t sound like a simple way to start my day.
Something I do encourage, and incidentally they love to do, is helping daddy in the yard on the weekends. It doesn’t matter if they are picking up sticks or moving leaves, they prefer to just play with him. His affection, affirmation, and approval seem as though it’s an innate desire. Their eyes light up and their confidence builds when daddy (specifically) congratulates or they feel that they are needed as his “helpers”; it seems like these feelings are building blocks of their DNA
I love watching them learn from Damon. Much like last month’s post on how Deacon likes to learn from Carter, Carter thrives when Damon is teaching him something. And then of course in his four-year-old way, he’s perfected it in one try and wants to learn no more.
What a privilege it is, to love these little people. To have and to hold them. To teach and mold them. Their beautiful hearts and minds are only yearning to be recognized. How terrifying a responsibility. Daily fails, short tempers, and not to mention hormonal ups and downs almost make me wish for teenager days. As though parenting during those years gets any easier, which we’ve been told it most certainly does not.
May I remember these days can be long, but these years are short. May we always remember the pleasure we’re given, and continue to take the time to teach, to show, to invite them into our days. And one day, maybe we’ll be invited back into theirs.