I am so blessed to have two of the most funny, curious, sweet, impulsive,
imaginative, busy, and adorable kids ever. Yes, I know that most parents feel
that way and should, but lately, I have gained an appreciation for their unique
personalities in a way I hadn't before. Both are extremely strong willed,
definitely sure of what he or she likes, wants, or disapproves of, but they each
are their own little person with their own dreams and hopes. They each have a
beautiful imagination, of which, I sometimes am able to steal a glimpse. I love
seeing into their, not little, but huge imaginations, where anything is possible,
where the void of earwax on a q-tip is because a "monster licked it out." Being
with my little crew and trying to see the world as they do gives me, what I hope,
a unique perspective in writing for children. I love penning, or typing, out a story
that was started as a conversation between my children and myself.
In my daughter's preschool class, she and the other little girls love picking
purple feathers off a class dress up boa and hiding them in their pockets until
they get home. I then find a trail of purple feathers from time to time, evidence
that my daughter has been there. I used to get annoyed at the feathers, having
to pick them up from random places in the house and finding them soaked in
the washing machine, while transferring a load from the washer to the dryer.
Earlier this week, I was tidying up in my room, when I looked down and found
a little pile of purple feathers. Instead of sighing, I giggled to myself. Holding
them affectionately, I treasured what they represented - the whimsy of a sweet
little girl, innocent and lovely. How much longer would she remain this way,
concerned only with princesses, butterflies, tutus and purple feathers?
How I need to cherish every moment, every smile and every seemingly
silly question. I am so thankful for this time of endless hugs and kisses,
beaming smiles, furrowed brows of disapproval, unintentional food fights at the
dinner table and baths turned magic by bubbles, even if there seems to be no
end to the stinky diapers or more than occasional tantrums. I am so blessed for
purple feathers leaving me a reminder of what God has given me.
I agree with you - the days when they're so little are so much fun but so much work.
ReplyDeleteGreat post! I love when you write your memories of motherhood :)
Thanks, Jillian. Yes, it's a ton of work, but so worth it. :) The time when their little is so fleeting. Loved your post today! :)
ReplyDeleteOh, Tanya...Enjoy every moment! You blink and they're ready for school! Your post brought a smile to my lips. : ) Happy writing!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Cynthia. Why does time have to go by so quickly? I am so thankful that I am learning the lesson now, to cherish my time with them, instead of looking back with regret later in life. Glad I could make you smile. :)
ReplyDeleteI enjoy your blog, little ones do grow so fast. (I blinked and my oldest is 35) I like that you are writing for the joy of it. I tried to write, but I tend to ramble on, just like when I am talking!
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately I have been known to ramble, but mostly when I am in need of sleep.
ReplyDeleteThe night before my oldest turned one, I watched College Road Trip with my sister. At the end of the movie, the dad is finally leaving his little girl at a college and flashes back to when she was toddling around as a munchkin. I lost it and sobbed like a baby. I can't imagine what it'll be like when she does leave the house. Thankfully, she's only three. :)