Lily is at such a fun age. At 20 ½ months old, she still loves to be snuggled before bed like she did as a baby, but she gives us the sweetest big girl smiles and the most wonderful cheek smooches, too. When I think back to her at this age someday, I hope I remember how she looks at the camera, gives me the cutest one-dimpled grin, and says, “Cheese!” I hope I can think back to how my heart melts when she gives me a kiss and it actually lands on my cheek. At this age, she’s such an active toddler that it is often too hard for her to be still long enough to plant it on my face, and it becomes an air kiss, well-intended, but without quite the same power to turn me into a puddle on the floor. I hope I recall this weekend, when I was heading out to run a quick errand while “Da-ee” (as she calls him) stayed home with the girls. Ten seconds after I walked out to the garage, I realized that I had forgotten my cell phone and went back in…I was met with Lily, moving each of her feet up and down in a happy dance / stomp and squealing, “Mama! Mama! Mama!” as if I’d been gone for two weeks. There is no loyalty like that found in a one-year-old…a heart of gold that is finally able to return your affections by running toward you, a mind with knowledge that she continues to need you for snacks and love, and a hand that still bears the dimples of babyhood, ready to grasp yours when she is afraid.
I’m guessing I will forget how she scares me daily…by climbing up her high chair and to a standing position with no fear as she hovers above the hard tile floor, by climbing up the stairs in absolute darkness as I’m still finishing the sentence, “Where did Lily…,” by shutting herself in the bathroom if anyone ever forgets to leave the door closed. Happily, she has learned to play in the sink instead of unrolling the toilet paper…definite progress. She insists on walking down the stairs holding the railing. She is not daunted by the fact that the railing is at a level designed for an adult. She simply stands on her tippy-toes. She is so brave, a quality I admire. It just has its moments when you’re the mom. When Emma was a baby, I never let her out of my sight. I haven’t found a way for that to be possible now that I have two young kids. I definitely try to keep careful tabs on Lily, but I think a combination of her personality and my inability to constantly hover (which has probably helped her personality to blossom into an even braver kid) mean that I’ve had a few heart-stopping moments. The newborn age has the sleep deprivation factor, and there is nothing that compares to that, but as far as care for a child, I think that this is the most challenging age I’ve encountered so far. When a little one has just enough physical ability to get into trouble and absolutely no idea of what real trouble is, it’s a daunting task to keep her safe.
And what preciousness she is to keep safe…with a giggle that lights up a room, eyes that absolutely sparkle, a personality that is easy to be around. No matter who she is, I love her, but she is truly a delight. She has a lightness about her for which I am so grateful. Sure, there are times when she has her toddler moments of screaming in despair, but she can turn on a dime and be giggling a few seconds later. She has a sensitive heart and cries from hurt feelings when I tell her “no,” but she quickly forgives and welcomes comforting snuggles even if I am the one who has made her sad. I thank God for giving me such sunshine each day. She gives me few moments where I can let down my guard, prevents me from getting my house as clean as I would like or my to do list as updated as I hope, but as I’ve learned from Emma, this is such a short season. I am trying to enjoy each nightly snuggle, every new word she utters, each time she sees me taking the rugs out of the kitchen and runs to get her mop to “help.” I absolutely love the joy with which she greets each new morning, the freshness that she brings to the world after twelve straight hours of sleep, the way she loves her routine, running for her SleepSack at naptime or scurrying up the stairs saying “bath” when she gets out of her highchair after dinner. At each step, she knows what comes next, and she’s often one step ahead of me. I love this age, where she is listening to everything and her receptive language is so strong, where she understands what is going on even when she can’t fully articulate her own thoughts. I love that she can say a word or two, and I know just what she’s trying to express and can interpret it as she listens. There is something so incredible about watching a life unfold from the beginning.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I get to be a part of her growing. So, when I think back to the toddler years, I hope I remember it all…the good, the tough, the unique, the mundane. I’ve heard people say, “When you have young kids, the days are long, but the years are short.” I feel that already, and I’ve only been at this about four years. It wouldn’t be human if I didn’t have my “Calgon, take me away” days, but I hope that, in the middle of the magic and the muck, to the best of my ability, I fully appreciate each moment. To whom much is given, much is expected. May I be much kindness, love, patience, encouragement, and parenting wisdom to the toddler who has my heart and knows how to make it stop or melt in a moment.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Snuggles, Smiles, and Smooches
Lily is at such a fun age. At 20 ½ months old, she still loves to be snuggled before bed like she did as a baby, but she gives us the sweetest big girl smiles and the most wonderful cheek smooches, too. When I think back to her at this age someday, I hope I remember how she looks at the camera, gives me the cutest one-dimpled grin, and says, “Cheese!” I hope I can think back to how my heart melts when she gives me a kiss and it actually lands on my cheek. At this age, she’s such an active toddler that it is often too hard for her to be still long enough to plant it on my face, and it becomes an air kiss, well-intended, but without quite the same power to turn me into a puddle on the floor. I hope I recall this weekend, when I was heading out to run a quick errand while “Da-ee” (as she calls him) stayed home with the girls. Ten seconds after I walked out to the garage, I realized that I had forgotten my cell phone and went back in…I was met with Lily, moving each of her feet up and down in a happy dance / stomp and squealing, “Mama! Mama! Mama!” as if I’d been gone for two weeks. There is no loyalty like that found in a one-year-old…a heart of gold that is finally able to return your affections by running toward you, a mind with knowledge that she continues to need you for snacks and love, and a hand that still bears the dimples of babyhood, ready to grasp yours when she is afraid.
I’m guessing I will forget how she scares me daily…by climbing up her high chair and to a standing position with no fear as she hovers above the hard tile floor, by climbing up the stairs in absolute darkness as I’m still finishing the sentence, “Where did Lily…,” by shutting herself in the bathroom if anyone ever forgets to leave the door closed. Happily, she has learned to play in the sink instead of unrolling the toilet paper…definite progress. She insists on walking down the stairs holding the railing. She is not daunted by the fact that the railing is at a level designed for an adult. She simply stands on her tippy-toes. She is so brave, a quality I admire. It just has its moments when you’re the mom. When Emma was a baby, I never let her out of my sight. I haven’t found a way for that to be possible now that I have two young kids. I definitely try to keep careful tabs on Lily, but I think a combination of her personality and my inability to constantly hover (which has probably helped her personality to blossom into an even braver kid) mean that I’ve had a few heart-stopping moments. The newborn age has the sleep deprivation factor, and there is nothing that compares to that, but as far as care for a child, I think that this is the most challenging age I’ve encountered so far. When a little one has just enough physical ability to get into trouble and absolutely no idea of what real trouble is, it’s a daunting task to keep her safe.
And what preciousness she is to keep safe…with a giggle that lights up a room, eyes that absolutely sparkle, a personality that is easy to be around. No matter who she is, I love her, but she is truly a delight. She has a lightness about her for which I am so grateful. Sure, there are times when she has her toddler moments of screaming in despair, but she can turn on a dime and be giggling a few seconds later. She has a sensitive heart and cries from hurt feelings when I tell her “no,” but she quickly forgives and welcomes comforting snuggles even if I am the one who has made her sad. I thank God for giving me such sunshine each day. She gives me few moments where I can let down my guard, prevents me from getting my house as clean as I would like or my to do list as updated as I hope, but as I’ve learned from Emma, this is such a short season. I am trying to enjoy each nightly snuggle, every new word she utters, each time she sees me taking the rugs out of the kitchen and runs to get her mop to “help.” I absolutely love the joy with which she greets each new morning, the freshness that she brings to the world after twelve straight hours of sleep, the way she loves her routine, running for her SleepSack at naptime or scurrying up the stairs saying “bath” when she gets out of her highchair after dinner. At each step, she knows what comes next, and she’s often one step ahead of me. I love this age, where she is listening to everything and her receptive language is so strong, where she understands what is going on even when she can’t fully articulate her own thoughts. I love that she can say a word or two, and I know just what she’s trying to express and can interpret it as she listens. There is something so incredible about watching a life unfold from the beginning.
I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I get to be a part of her growing. So, when I think back to the toddler years, I hope I remember it all…the good, the tough, the unique, the mundane. I’ve heard people say, “When you have young kids, the days are long, but the years are short.” I feel that already, and I’ve only been at this about four years. It wouldn’t be human if I didn’t have my “Calgon, take me away” days, but I hope that, in the middle of the magic and the muck, to the best of my ability, I fully appreciate each moment. To whom much is given, much is expected. May I be much kindness, love, patience, encouragement, and parenting wisdom to the toddler who has my heart and knows how to make it stop or melt in a moment.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
The Princess Dilemma
Sometimes, the toughest part about being a parent is knowing how little you know. With all of my heart, I want to make the right decisions for my girls, but I don’t always know how to ensure that will happen. I think things through, study each child for clues on whether I’m getting it right, think back to the way my parents raised me, pray for wisdom, and read books.
Still, sometimes it comes down to the real-life, everyday dilemmas. For instance, my dad recently took Emma and me to her first movie theater movie, Tangled. I really enjoyed the movie. Emma wanted me to take her out for part of it that got a bit too scary and overwhelming but has talked about it positively almost every day since. She pretends to be Rapunzel, talks about Flynn Rider, remembers the storyline, and thinks a lot more about her hair these days. Yesterday, she decided that she wants to have a Rapunzel-themed fourth birthday party. My first instinct was, “Sure, why not?”
As her mom, I want to make her dreams come true. But as her mom, I also think twice about reinforcing a storyline where a very young woman falls in love with a man who has made many bad choices, and her love is enough to turn him around. On the one hand, I want Emma to be able to dream and imagine and dance and be a carefree almost four-year-old. On the other hand, I don’t want her to grow up to think that it is her job to save a “bad boy” or to think that she will be in a relationship where she can or should change someone else. I know that people can change. I appreciate how hard some people work to change. I just don’t want my daughter to be the one who is relying on that change.
Overthinking this one? Perhaps, but I feel like each of the princess stories has its own dilemma. Don’t get me wrong. We are knee deep in princesses at our house…the dress up clothes, the dolls, the books, and recently, the movies. She loves it. I love her. I know there is a brief time in life for an imagination to be unending, for stories to be magical, for a world other than her own to be so enchanting and accessible. It just happens that it is the same brief time when she is forming thoughts about herself as a girl / woman, about how the world of relationships works, about what should be feared in the world and what should be celebrated. Insert deep motherly sigh here.
In the end, the Rapunzel party will probably prevail. I can imagine a grown woman who mourns the fact that she didn’t get to have the birthday party of her dreams while she attended four other Rapunzel birthday parties that year (just guessing that it will be a popular theme.) I can’t really imagine her being in a bad relationship and saying, “Mom, if only you hadn’t let me have that Rapunzel party. I would have known how to choose a solid man, a man of good character who wouldn’t rely on me to help him recover from his troubled childhood and become a citizen in good standing.” Conant and I will talk with her for the next two (or three) decades about healthy relationships; Conant will continue to be an attentive father; we will try to model a loving relationship devoid of any thievery (Tangled reference for those who haven't seen it); and in so doing, we will hope to combat the princess influence. After all, it is nice to finally get to movies that we actually enjoy watching with Emma. Though Little People, Barney, and The Wiggles leave me with fewer philosophical dilemmas, they are also much less compelling and not the best soundtracks to have stuck in my head at 3:00 a.m.
And there is something magical about letting go of all reality, leaving the dirty laundry in a heap, and curling up with your preschooler while she imagines that she is a princess and all is right in her world…because in those moments, you forget how little you know, and all is right in your world, too.
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