This girl.
This incredible, tough, increasingly hilarious, stubborn, obnoxious, sweet, spunky tomboy who is at the same time all girl. She kills me. My fear for her future at times is almost tangible, as I struggle to have anything I teach her absorb into her, "I can do it myself, Mom!" head. Only to have her turn everything around on me and teach me to be more patient, more trusting, more kind, and again, more patient.
At times I get overwhelmed, with work and the student lifestyle with four kids. And that what I would view as ick, and bacteria (I'm not a germaphobe, but sometimes I draw the line, generally with swimming in giant muddy rainpuddles, and irrigation ditches), And just a general inconvenience to what we have going on, her wiggliness, and bouncing everywhere, and can't you just be calm for once? At times I'm frustrated by her being a child, and I can't wait for her to grow up.
And then she brings home tadpoles in a spaghetti jar and though I have a brief, "Where the heck am I supposed to put these? and will they stink up the house? and oh man, what if Landon knocks the whole thing over?" But then, thankfully, the Holy Spirit guides, and encourages me to see this as a moment, one that you can't let go past you, where you can crush, or build. And suddenly I'm seeing the world through her eyes. I sit still, and point out the little tails, and how funny they are, and look at 'em go!I ooh and ahh over her hard work on the habitat, and marvel at her tenacity and creativity.
Without her, out lives would be incomplete. She's an incredible sister, and daughter. I love her more than I ever thought I could love, and I don't say it enough. How grateful I am to my Heavenly Father, who gives me teaching moments through my children, and has me realize, again and again, how incredibly blessed I am with my children. Sometimes he teaches us in grand ways, and other times it's with a jar of tadpoles. I'm grateful for both.
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