Moments

There are moments that occur (maybe not daily, but often enough if I'm paying attention) that make me grateful to be a mom. My heart swells with love and pride for my kids during these moments. One of these moments is happening right now. I'm not sure if it's because Christmas is only two days away and no one wants to be on the naughty list, or if it is because they are actually learning to treat each other kindly, or maybe it's just some of their awesomeness leaking through. But whatever the reason, I'll take the moment and file it away into my folder marked "special, sweet moments" in my memory bank.

Right now all 5 of my little ones are playing nicely together, building blanket forts in the boy's room on the bunk bed. It happens so rarely that they are all playing together, that it stands out as a "moment". So often the older two don't want to include the little ones in their play because the little ones have a habit of "breaking, ruining, and destroying" stuff. It makes me happy to hear them including the little ones in their play. I'm not sure how long it will last, but I will enjoy it while it does.

Another of these "moments" I wanted to mention happened yesterday morning. My oldest daughter Hailey, age 9, was asked to help me by giving her 4-year-old sister (Maizie) a bath and getting her dressed. A little while later I find H and M in the bathroom. M is sitting very still (a huge accomplishment to get this one to hold still) on a little pink princess chair while H does her hair. M is dressed in a pretty pink dress and white cardigan with tights on, and H is braiding her hair and has a large pink flower ready to clip onto her head. As I walk by I can hear H telling M how pretty she is. How pretty her dress is, how pretty her hair looks. Over and over again she tells M that she is a very pretty little girl. Sweet, right? Now add to this image the fact that Miss M was born with Down Syndrome. She will never be deemed "beautiful" by wordly standards. But there is no doubt that H is sincere in her compliments. She thinks M looks pretty, and she's right. M is a very pretty little girl in her pink dress and white cardigan and tights with her hair all done up nice by her older sister. My heart swells with love and pride for my little girls in that moment and I file it away in my "sweet and special" folder. It suddenly occurs to me that this folder could end up being the thickest, fattest one in my memory bank.