The Trio

Three of my children (Mary, Josiah & Leah) surprised me with this little gem. Please note: Leah confirmed her version of the lyrics and gave me a theologically sound answer as to why Jesus was saving hearts from Satan's power rather than simply saving all of us.

Enjoy.

Photographer

Phoebe is a photographer in the making! She got ahold of Hannah's iPod Touch and took these amazing photos:

I deleted the 27 other identical ones so as not to overwhelm you with her exceptional eye for staging and proportion.

Cows and Throats

Phoebe walked up to me this morning and said:

Mama, my froat is broken.

You're throat is broken?

Yup. Listen... *she tried to cough to clear the gravelly sound from her voice but couldn't quite manage it*

Hmm, you must be sick.

Yeah, my voice is a cow.

You're voice is a cow?

Uh huh. Hear it? *she picked a note that has never been written on any musical score, ever, and proceeds to 'show' me how her voice is a cow by holding that singular sound for several seconds*

I see. I'm not entirely sure I understand how it is that your voice is a cow.

'Cause it is. *the answer that our idiosyncratic child defers to whenever her logic is questioned*

Phoebe walked away from our conversation leaving me a bit befuddled although greatly entertained. It wasn't until several moments later that I realized she was trying to say that her voice was hoarse.

Where Does She Get It?

Leah is our family's conundrum. She just doesn't fit the mold. And there is her penchant for imagining the most horrific events possible for her dolls. They break legs, arms, heads and feet. They are cripples for life, orphaned forever, sold into slavery, and often die. She usually responds with coolness towards their helpless cries for mercy. It's a hard knock life. C'est la vie. However, today was something unusually special. This is the conversation I overheard during her playtime with Mary.

Leah (in an unusually awesome fake accent): Hello. Do you have many children?

Mary (in an equally hilarious accent meant to underline her adult character): Why yes. I'm pregnant with my 20th.

Leah: Oh! How nice that you can have that many children. Has your uterus ruptured yet?

Mary: No. Not yet.

Leah: Well, I run the orphanage down the street. Do you know it?

Mary: Oh yes, I pass by there every day.

Leah: Perhaps you could think about giving your baby to the orphanage. We only have 1 child living there now.

Mary: Well, I'll think about it for sure. But I'm afraid you may kidnap my baby.

Leah: Oh! I would never do that! It's just that we don't have enough children at the orphanage and we need more. You have enough, don't you?

Mary: I could give you this one and then keep the next one.

Leah: Thank you. That would be perfect!

Not So Little People

It is so much fun watching my little people become, well, not so little. I am big enough to admit that I bought hook, line, and sinker into the myth that raising adolescents would be awful. It is a given in our society that teenagers must be incredibly difficult, stubborn, obnoxious beings that suck our will to live every day of their life. Apparently we are supposed to white-knuckle our way through these horrific years until they come out on the other side with maturity. Drugs are often needed. For the parents.

Now, I currently *only* have a thir-TEEN year old. However, as she nears her 14th birthday I continue to be amazed by her personality, sense of humor, and creativity. I love her! I enjoy talking with her and finding out what is on her mind. I think her take on life is super cute and very astute at times. I see childishness still lurking and sure, my patience grows thin at some of the more obvious lapses in judgement she makes. However, my patience grows occasionally thin with my other children for age-appropriate issues, too!

I think teenagers get a bad rap. They aren't eat-their-belly cute like babies. They aren't babble-misprounced-words cute like toddlers. They aren't entertain-you-with-wild-imagination-and-schemes cute like grade schoolers. They aren't even tender-your-heart-for-their-awkwardness cute like tweeners. Nope, these mini adults are just smaller, more immature versions of their final selves with all the personality perks and baggage that any other human being carries through life. Their idiosyncrasies are clear. Their strengths and weaknesses are becoming more and more plain. And the clock seems to be ticking towards that final transition into the "real world."

I remember so well the painful place of being stuck half way between little girl and all grown up. The jumble of emotions and new discoveries that both thrilled me and frightened me (when I was brave enough to admit it!). My conversation and questions ranged from the lofty to the downright absurd. Yes, I remember well the place in my own life that Hannah now inhabits in hers. And honestly, it sometimes feels like just yesterday. Then I watch my teen do something so very... teenish, and suddenly it feels a million years ago that I walked this same path. Funny how time works.

I don't know how my life is going to change as my parenting grows up with my children. Or more importantly how I am going to change. I have a lot of ideas, concepts, and parenting rhetoric fighting for breathing room in my head. But I hope that I remain humble towards the understanding that my assumptions about my children and my parenting could always be wrong.

Pleasantly so.