Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Making Memories

I love to take pictures of the kids that capture their personalities.  I keep my photos organized by season and year, and I'm so glad I started that, because it's amazing how easy it is to forget how old they were at the time you took that great picture.  What I also forget, though, is what they were doing at that time.  Was she crawling yet?  Was he saying anything at this point?  In the spirit of keeping the memories, here are some examples of my favorite pictures from Spring so far.

You may see a little girl wearing her daddy's PJ's, but this, my friends, is a worm.  She wants to be a mermaid when she grows up.  She wants to marry both of her brothers.  She still calls yellow lellow.  If she really likes something, it's fablious.  She always wants to hold the baby, and is really good at it when she remembers not to turn him upside down.  She wishes her hair was golden and thinks the more jewelry you're wearing, the prettier you look.  She has gorgeous brown eyes.  She's my shopping buddy, my only girl.  We often talk about the responsibility of being an older sister and how wonderful it is to have the emotional heart of a girl.  I want her to always feel very special and loved.

You may see a little boy choking himself with a baby blanket, but this, my friends, is Super Dog.  He is at times Buzz Lightyear, at times Super Dog, at times Jacky Wacky.  He calls the kitchen a chicken, dessert a buh-dessert, music is musegit, yellow is nennow.  He usually mixes up his T's and C's which gets really confusing.  He wants to be an airplane when he grows up and always dreams about mean cats and nice dogs, but is scared of both when he actually sees them.  He has great green eyes with the longest lashes you've ever seen.  He reminds me at least four times a day that he is a big boy.  We talk a lot about how he and Daddy are Ella's protectors, and so he stands at the bottom of the slide to catch her.  I want to nibble his ears and pinch his thighs but I refrain.  Sometimes.  Because you don't do that to big boys.

You may see a baby with tape on his face and tights on his head, but this, my friends, is The Gater.  He plays peekaboo with his elbow, is shy about smiling but rarely cries, is reserved with others but ticklish at home, and lets his brother and sister do whatever they want to him.  For now.  He has caused more joy and heartache for his mom in his short life than he will ever know.  His eyes are a fablious blue and I hope they don't change.  His dimples make me melt and I'm in trouble. 

Everyone who has gone before tells me how quickly this time passes and to enjoy it.  I want to.  I really do.  It's so easy to send the kids outside, or put on a movie, or have them play in their rooms, and I don't have a problem with any of those in moderation.  Otherwise the laundry or dishes {or getting a shower} would never get done.  But I want to remember every little beautiful and difficult part of this phase of life.  I want the kids to remember the fun times and the special times.  I find myself praying at periods throughout the day that I won't forget how good it feels to do a craft with Ella, to sing to Jack while cuddling him when he's sick, and to snuggle up with Nate {even when I'm at my wit's end with his situation}. 
These kids are gifts, not only as little people, but also in the memories they provide.  I am so grateful.
Note:  Lest you think I'm some great mom who does it all well and with grace {hah}, I just whined to the kids, while writing my sentimental last paragraphs, that I would like if they would please leave me alone because since I began writing this post I have not had five minutes without being interrupted.  Ella said, "But you've probably had four minutes."  Jack said, "I have socks on my hands."

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