I find myself amazed by my children.
Matthew is a ball of fire most of the time - there is no time for his parents - he wants to go, play with his friends and his stuff and life is going by for him at breakneck speed. At the moment, it is a fine line between little boy and not so little boy anymore. He wants to be held lately like we hold Marisa.
I remember when I was five that sense that I still wanted to be a baby and be held by my parents, that I never wanted to grow up. Those feelings used to gurgle up from such a deep well inside of me I would cry about it and seek out my parents for a hug. I wanted to remain little and it was a deep yearning that would bubble up seemingly out of nowhere.
So I think I know how Matthew feels right now. He is on the precipice of bigness. Big kid school. Big kid camp. Big kid friends. Big kid sports. Big kid life. That is scary stuff. SO I hold him like I do Marisa (which is a testament to my strength!) and let him wrap his arms around my neck and twine his fingers into the back of my hair and we giggle and have deep secrets that we exchange. It will not be long before I cannot do this any more.
Marisa was walking into camp this morning and stopped at a sign she has seen for the past three days. She stopped, knelt down, and loudly identified the letter 'A'; she got up and kept on walking.
She can easily identify colors. She likes white.
She rambles on about things with some words that are easy to understand and others that are just babble to us still.
She jumps (both feet off the ground!) and skips. I tell her she is too young to do either.
She has always been a child filled with light and laughter. She is a daredevil and hardly prone to tantrums. She has an independent streak that runs far and wide.
She is beautiful in every way to me.
Last night the electricity went out in our house. We were watching TV, right at the moment when they were going to reveal which house the people chose on House Hunters, a new one, one we wanted to see! OH NO. As soon as the lights went out, we went outside.
It was deadly quiet and there were NO lights. Not even the glow of far away lights. It was very dark. Kevin and I stood side by side, elbows touching, on the damp deck with the light mist swirling around below. I said to him "I should go get the flashlight" but I did not move. Far away sirens signaled the possibility of what put our lights out.
I was mesmerized by the darkness, the lightening bugs were putting on the most amazing show. It was heart stopping how beautiful it was. It felt dream like standing out there with tiny methodical flashes of light happening around our heads. I thought of my babies sleeping inside, how I want to protect them always and how they fill my life up with love and happiness. I drank in the silence and the outlines of houses and trees and flashes of light and the damp warm air on my skin. I felt wrapped up in beauty and love and goodness standing there.
When I closed my eyes in the darkness later I could still feel and see the night and all of the good things.
This past year, my mantra has been 'do everything with love and goodness in your heart' which includes letting go, being strong, having fun, relaxing.
Life is much too short to anything less.