Turn, Turn, Turn....
Tomorrow is December, and I don't exactly know how.
Our Fall has been busy but good, in that deep down and healing kind of way. It's been a relatively quiet season - not in the decibel way, mind you, but in the Major Things way - no new babies, no friends fighting deadly diseases in foreign countries, no saying goodbye to relatives entirely too soon, no home renovations... just the five of us, going to work and school, buying groceries, picking up toys and cereal bowls, taking pictures and taking trips, laughing and crying and throwing huge tantrums at inconvenient moments, eating out far too much, serving at church, fighting bedtime... and our battles have been small scale - and yet no less fierce or important, I think. We have fought to make better choices about spending and eating and exercising, and we have fought to keep up with homework and spelling tests and karate practice and Cub Scouts. We have fought to keep rooms tidy(-er) and shoes in their proper places. We have fought to limit screen time and to tackle boredom with creativity. We have fought to let holidays be less monstrous, more precious. And we have fought to get a toddler to preschool or BSF (Every. Time.).
And I think we've won quite a few of these battles, thanks in large part to grace and patience and perseverance and all those other things that we know have no origination in our own hearts....
It has been such joy to watch Luke grow up a little more this fall, not just in height (although that too), but also in maturity. The boy I dropped off at school this morning is not the kid who made a 25 on his first two spelling tests, who scowled at the suggestion that he do anything other than read or listen to audiobooks in his room all day, who steadfastly refused almost every type of food, who terrorized his siblings at every opportunity. I mean, sure, he still does some of those things - and will continue to be a sinful being in so many ways, like all of us - but he has grown. For starters, he scored a 99 on the last spelling test, not only because he's cracked the code to studying, but also because he now writes according to the rules of humanity, as opposed to using some alien code language that wiggled and scribbled in any old direction all over the page... and while he still reads and reads and reads, he makes more time now for playing with his sister and brother, for telling jokes and making up games, and for being a super wild kid in a way that this screen-averse mom can't really complain about. Along with his schoolwork, he's enjoyed working hard to achieve more in his karate lessons, and he is eager to test for the next belt in just a few weeks. As for food, well, we still have a few more years for him to grow up!
Sarah is always my Submarine Child, swimming out of sight and occasionally surfacing for a hug or a joke or to present me with her latest drawing. But it's fun to watch her be true to herself - drawing constantly, decorating her room, picking out her clothes, playing "family" or pretending to be Moana - while she also dabbles in her brothers' interests. I'm kind of proud of the way she decides to play with Duplos or listen to Luke's audiobooks or dress up like pirates with her brothers. Granted, Andrew has played with baby dolls and princess dresses enough already to last a few lifetimes, so it isn't as if she never gets her own way; instead, I have watched her give up her own way more often, and I'm really proud of her for loving her brothers like that. She is not a threat like her brother when it comes to schoolwork, but I know the Reckoning is soon - it was about the middle of Luke's 1st grade year when we discovered we needed to actually help him study for spelling... But she already knows the ropes and still takes great (nerdy) joy in completing her homework or making us review her on spelling. (She is, after all, my own child.) And although I'm dreadfully inconsistent about making her read to me, I've really enjoyed hearing her improve from one week to the next. The other night, she confessed that she had stayed up with Frog and Toad - and actually read the words! No doubt we'll be getting on to her about that before long, but for now, I couldn't be happier.
And Andrew. If Sarah is a submarine, Andrew is Monster Truck barreling down Main Street. Last night, after we'd pulled up in the church parking lot, I freed Andrew from his carseat and he immediately flew past me in order to catch up with his big brother, who was already much further ahead. I watched him run, thinking that no human could possibly keep their balance like that - every step looks like the one just before a major trip - and yet he makes it work somehow, literally throwing himself into the future so that he doesn't miss a moment of what he sees up ahead. And that is exactly how he lives 85% of his life. The other 15% is spent snuggling in my arms, often right in the middle of my breakfast, or when I'm trying to get bills paid, or at 3 am. It's a crazy way to live, but it just seems to work for him, and I'm thankful (and shocked) that he is yet another different person, like and unlike his siblings in so many, many ways.
New things are on the horizon for me, as well, but that'll have to wait because I have a teeth-cleaning to attend. Because you know, life is like that right now: words quickly dashed out between preschool drop-off and dentist appointments, bills paid during karate practice, groceries purchased online if at all... it's just a season, after all....
Our Fall has been busy but good, in that deep down and healing kind of way. It's been a relatively quiet season - not in the decibel way, mind you, but in the Major Things way - no new babies, no friends fighting deadly diseases in foreign countries, no saying goodbye to relatives entirely too soon, no home renovations... just the five of us, going to work and school, buying groceries, picking up toys and cereal bowls, taking pictures and taking trips, laughing and crying and throwing huge tantrums at inconvenient moments, eating out far too much, serving at church, fighting bedtime... and our battles have been small scale - and yet no less fierce or important, I think. We have fought to make better choices about spending and eating and exercising, and we have fought to keep up with homework and spelling tests and karate practice and Cub Scouts. We have fought to keep rooms tidy(-er) and shoes in their proper places. We have fought to limit screen time and to tackle boredom with creativity. We have fought to let holidays be less monstrous, more precious. And we have fought to get a toddler to preschool or BSF (Every. Time.).
And I think we've won quite a few of these battles, thanks in large part to grace and patience and perseverance and all those other things that we know have no origination in our own hearts....
It has been such joy to watch Luke grow up a little more this fall, not just in height (although that too), but also in maturity. The boy I dropped off at school this morning is not the kid who made a 25 on his first two spelling tests, who scowled at the suggestion that he do anything other than read or listen to audiobooks in his room all day, who steadfastly refused almost every type of food, who terrorized his siblings at every opportunity. I mean, sure, he still does some of those things - and will continue to be a sinful being in so many ways, like all of us - but he has grown. For starters, he scored a 99 on the last spelling test, not only because he's cracked the code to studying, but also because he now writes according to the rules of humanity, as opposed to using some alien code language that wiggled and scribbled in any old direction all over the page... and while he still reads and reads and reads, he makes more time now for playing with his sister and brother, for telling jokes and making up games, and for being a super wild kid in a way that this screen-averse mom can't really complain about. Along with his schoolwork, he's enjoyed working hard to achieve more in his karate lessons, and he is eager to test for the next belt in just a few weeks. As for food, well, we still have a few more years for him to grow up!
Sarah is always my Submarine Child, swimming out of sight and occasionally surfacing for a hug or a joke or to present me with her latest drawing. But it's fun to watch her be true to herself - drawing constantly, decorating her room, picking out her clothes, playing "family" or pretending to be Moana - while she also dabbles in her brothers' interests. I'm kind of proud of the way she decides to play with Duplos or listen to Luke's audiobooks or dress up like pirates with her brothers. Granted, Andrew has played with baby dolls and princess dresses enough already to last a few lifetimes, so it isn't as if she never gets her own way; instead, I have watched her give up her own way more often, and I'm really proud of her for loving her brothers like that. She is not a threat like her brother when it comes to schoolwork, but I know the Reckoning is soon - it was about the middle of Luke's 1st grade year when we discovered we needed to actually help him study for spelling... But she already knows the ropes and still takes great (nerdy) joy in completing her homework or making us review her on spelling. (She is, after all, my own child.) And although I'm dreadfully inconsistent about making her read to me, I've really enjoyed hearing her improve from one week to the next. The other night, she confessed that she had stayed up with Frog and Toad - and actually read the words! No doubt we'll be getting on to her about that before long, but for now, I couldn't be happier.
And Andrew. If Sarah is a submarine, Andrew is Monster Truck barreling down Main Street. Last night, after we'd pulled up in the church parking lot, I freed Andrew from his carseat and he immediately flew past me in order to catch up with his big brother, who was already much further ahead. I watched him run, thinking that no human could possibly keep their balance like that - every step looks like the one just before a major trip - and yet he makes it work somehow, literally throwing himself into the future so that he doesn't miss a moment of what he sees up ahead. And that is exactly how he lives 85% of his life. The other 15% is spent snuggling in my arms, often right in the middle of my breakfast, or when I'm trying to get bills paid, or at 3 am. It's a crazy way to live, but it just seems to work for him, and I'm thankful (and shocked) that he is yet another different person, like and unlike his siblings in so many, many ways.
New things are on the horizon for me, as well, but that'll have to wait because I have a teeth-cleaning to attend. Because you know, life is like that right now: words quickly dashed out between preschool drop-off and dentist appointments, bills paid during karate practice, groceries purchased online if at all... it's just a season, after all....
Comments
Post a Comment
Thanks for leaving a comment!