Forgiveness is Peaceful

It had been one of those days where I’d say “no” and he’d scream “yes,” I’d say “right,” and he’d go left, and my version of stop was a full-throttle go for Nathan.  By the time I got around to changing the sheets on his bed before bedtime, I was beyond compromise.  Nathan keeps more than 20 stuffed critters in his bed.  Everything from an assortment of teddy bears, dogs, and Winnie-the-Pooh characters to a bobcat and a tiger.  Honestly, there is barely enough room in the bed for the boy.  So I evicted every creature but his most coveted three.  The rest were left on the floor for him to find new sleeping places.  His Dad compromised by retrieving two cardboard boxes from the basement big enough to hold all the critters.  He told Nathan they had to have their own beds.  So the boxes were loaded and put I a place of honor, the boys had their bedtime stories and prayers, and everyone was tucked in for the night.  Or so we thought. 

Nathan shares a room with his brother, so I understand that his only personal space is limited to his bed, and yes, I realize that the things that he loves most in the world he’s going to put in the only space he feels he can defend.  Good thing I figured that out before making my final rounds to check on the slumbering children before turning in for the night.   I walked into our bedroom after making the rounds to the sound of my husband chuckling.  He already knew what I’d found because he’d also made his finally check of the night.  Nathan had escaped his bed to empty those two boxes of critters back into his bed.  He had fallen asleep frantically clutching as many of the stuffed animals as his little arms could hold.  His desperation was too precious to be upset with him.  I decided to make one more visit to his room to see if I could help him relax.  It’s bad enough that there isn't much room in his bed thanks to the overcrowding, but I certainly didn't need him restless and afraid he’d lose his animals.  As I leaned over his bed, I whispered in his ear that it was okay and I loved him.  He opened his eyes just enough to see that it was me, and with both his arms he reached up to grab my shoulders and pull me into his bed.  Somehow I had become one of his coveted objects, and it was suddenly more important to hold on to me than his critters.  I lay down beside him and cried for a few minutes while he relaxed and went back to sleep.  Love is forgiving, and forgiveness is peaceful.

Two-Wheeled Determination

The balance, coordination, determination, and team work!  That’s what it took to get Nathan from four wheels to two.  Nathan is my child who decides he’s ready to do something long before he’s physically capable.  It’s just a reaction to trying to keep up with his older brother, but it’s frustrating for all of us.  His desire is there, but sometimes that’s not enough to get him where he wants to be. 

Riding his bicycle without training wheels was just like that.  Earlier this summer he had almost all of the components in place, but what was missing was keeping him in training wheels.  He couldn't get the hang of looking down the sidewalk, so looking at the ground under his wheels always put him on the ground under his bicycle.  Then at the end of the summer, things changed.  One afternoon in September, Zac and Nathan teamed up.  Zac loaned Nathan his bicycle and his balance to get him started.  Then they were off with Zac trotting beside Nathan.  Just as Zac couldn't keep up anymore, he let go and Nathan was off on his own and doing it!  He was riding his big brother’s bicycle with no training wheels.  He made it most of the way down the sidewalk on our block.  This time when he fell off, there wasn't the usual amount of tears and frustration.  This time he jumped up and wanted to do it again.  After about three runs, he was on his own and there was no stopping him.  When Daddy got home that evening, he took the training wheels off of Nathan’s bike, and they are now lost in the depths of the garage.  Who knew a little brotherly determination would get Nathan up and going on two wheels?!

A Perfect 1

It’s funny how perspectives change from one child to another.  When Nathan was one, I’d bristle when people referred to him as “the baby.”  He wasn't a baby anymore, he was Mommy’s little boy.  But Amanda will probably be 30 years old and we’ll still be calling her “the baby.”  She’s cuddly, loving, and independent, and she seems to relish in her role as the baby.  And yet she’s in a hurry to catch up with her siblings.  She perfectly copies how they hold their crayons when they write or draw.  She demands to feed herself, which results in Mommy and Daddy using every trick in our baby-raising toolbox to get the food down her rather than on her and still allow her to be part of the process.  Then there are the days when her desire to be a big girl is bigger than her ability, and it’s a day of meltdowns and temper tantrums.  Some days it’s great being the baby, and some days…not.

Amanda has entire conversations with her sister’s dolls and her own stuffed animals, complete with head bobbing and eyebrow raising.  Though we can decipher only half of what she says, the dolls obviously understand every precious word.  When she wakes in the mornings and calls for her Daddy, he is greeted by the clearest words of the day, “Good morning” or “coffee.” With those words and her beautiful smile, she knows the way to her Daddy’s heart.  

She loves books every bit as much as her siblings.  She sits in my lap every evening enthralled by the pictures and the story, safe and warm and snuggly for bed, and in the morning she brings me her book(s) of choice and crawls into my lap again for endless sessions of pointing and naming, and sometimes for a repeat of last night’s bedtime book.  

Somehow, somewhere Amanda went from the first tenuous steps at 14 months to dancing in only a heartbeat.  When she figured out that movement upright offered lots more mobility and speed than crawling, she never looked at the floor again.  

And she LOVES music.  She has remarkable pitch, sings on cue and on key, and then adds in a jig or waltz for good measure.  What a little character.  Our little character.  Perfect in every way, and celebrating being one every day.