It's been a while since my last blog. Life seems to take up so much more time once my Sweet Pea started walking. It's been just over a month, but I've already lost the ability to focus on individual tasks as they continually get interrupted by the need to get someone out of the dog bowls, out of the plants, into the potty, or redressed. Busyness has been completely redefined when you're looking our for someone with a 30-second attention span.
However, life as a mother is also a lot more interesting and challenging as each new accomplishment is achieved. My Sweet Pea interacts with me (albeit, not always for the best) and tells me some of what she wants (apparently, I never feed her as she's always asking for "more"). She looks at the world with eyes I wish I still had...eyes that never get bored. She can read Dr. Seuss's Mr Brown Can Moo over and over and, every time she gets to "He can sound like a hand on a door..." she knocks her own hand on the page, laughing at her accomplishment.
Why is it that we lose this gift of sight? A vacuum to my Sweet Pea is a magical instrument that sings songs and vibrates as she pushes it across the room (Yes, I did buy her a real vacuum - or Dustbuster - she had no interest in the play vacuums). To me, a vacuum is just another torture device of yet another task I must accomplish several times a week. Flowering weeds, to my Sweet Pea, are a glorious gift for MaMa. And, while they melt my heart when coming from the tender hands of my child, when growing in my yard, they're proof of my inability to maintain the pristine lawn of which I dream.
I'm envious of my own child. She looks at the world around her and sees nothing but the glories of God, hope, and possibilities. I look at the world around me and see my faults, lost dreams, and agony of man's sinful nature. I look at the people around me and see despair, anger, selfishness, greed, lust, broken homes, broken promises, and broken spirits. My Sweet Pea sees these same people and sees it as an opportunity to wave and say "Hi!"...as is evident when we walk to the mailbox and she must stop and wave at every passerby.
I've come to a conclusion. Children are an amazing blessing from whom we can learn to reacquaint ourselves with all the goodness in this world. They cause pain during childbirth, from which we can learn to appreciate the tenderness of their sweet skin. They give us sleepless days and nights from which we can learn to let some of our duties slide and make the necessary time for our own rest. They cry so that we can allow their sweet laughs to radiate inside us and fill us again with hope. They get dirty so that we can enjoy time together singing and playing in the bath. They get hurt so that we can be reassured of our simple ability to hug and kiss them and tell them that everything will be alright. They grow up and have their own kids so that we know this cycle doesn't end and that we have added something great to the world around us.
However, life as a mother is also a lot more interesting and challenging as each new accomplishment is achieved. My Sweet Pea interacts with me (albeit, not always for the best) and tells me some of what she wants (apparently, I never feed her as she's always asking for "more"). She looks at the world with eyes I wish I still had...eyes that never get bored. She can read Dr. Seuss's Mr Brown Can Moo over and over and, every time she gets to "He can sound like a hand on a door..." she knocks her own hand on the page, laughing at her accomplishment.
Why is it that we lose this gift of sight? A vacuum to my Sweet Pea is a magical instrument that sings songs and vibrates as she pushes it across the room (Yes, I did buy her a real vacuum - or Dustbuster - she had no interest in the play vacuums). To me, a vacuum is just another torture device of yet another task I must accomplish several times a week. Flowering weeds, to my Sweet Pea, are a glorious gift for MaMa. And, while they melt my heart when coming from the tender hands of my child, when growing in my yard, they're proof of my inability to maintain the pristine lawn of which I dream.
I'm envious of my own child. She looks at the world around her and sees nothing but the glories of God, hope, and possibilities. I look at the world around me and see my faults, lost dreams, and agony of man's sinful nature. I look at the people around me and see despair, anger, selfishness, greed, lust, broken homes, broken promises, and broken spirits. My Sweet Pea sees these same people and sees it as an opportunity to wave and say "Hi!"...as is evident when we walk to the mailbox and she must stop and wave at every passerby.
I've come to a conclusion. Children are an amazing blessing from whom we can learn to reacquaint ourselves with all the goodness in this world. They cause pain during childbirth, from which we can learn to appreciate the tenderness of their sweet skin. They give us sleepless days and nights from which we can learn to let some of our duties slide and make the necessary time for our own rest. They cry so that we can allow their sweet laughs to radiate inside us and fill us again with hope. They get dirty so that we can enjoy time together singing and playing in the bath. They get hurt so that we can be reassured of our simple ability to hug and kiss them and tell them that everything will be alright. They grow up and have their own kids so that we know this cycle doesn't end and that we have added something great to the world around us.
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