Rowan and Graham are ensconced in another school year - working and playing their way through second grade and kindergarten, respectively. At seven and five, they are so big. They have their own lives, friends, events, activities, proclivities, likes/dislikes, hopes, and dreams.
My Mom sent me a video compilation this morning of Graham from ages one to three, and I miss those cheeks and chubby limbs to the point of aching, but still I am so happy and grateful to steward them during this -- and every -- season. Seven and five are sometimes frustrating, but mostly delightful and I'm fiercely proud of the humans they are becoming.
It feels rusty to write here, but I love the looking back this space allows. It holds so many memories, so many seasons, and I am sad for the ones I've skipped. Maybe that means I'll be back, or maybe it just means today is an emotional, nostalgic kind of day. Time will tell, it always does. I just find that it tells with much more color and detail when I commit to documenting our days, so I'd like to do more of that...
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Every morning as the kids run off to school, I give each of them a hug and I say "work hard," and they reply, "be kind." I yell "slay the day" to their retreating backs, and they always glance at me and smile before the day swallows them.
At bedtime, we pray and read together alongside the more monotonous routines of jammies and teeth brushing and the like. I linger for just a minute once they're asleep, loveys and blankies still tucked into their sides, water glasses at the ready on nightstands, and I just close my eyes and whisper "thank you" before turning to my own nighttime rituals.
I love routine, I always have. I cherish rituals and hope with my whole heart that they'll remember and be comforted by them well into adulthood, just as I am.
And in the midst of a very hectic and busy life season, I'm just so grateful for this life and this little family, and I felt compelled to come here and say it. 'Tis the season of gratitude, after all.
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