Little Kids

I spend my days constantly surrounded by little kids.  My own kids, neighborhood kids, friend's kids, church kids, piano lesson kids, classroom volunteer kids, and the kids when I offer to babysit because heaven knows moms need babysitters.  I usually love it.  And with no more babies coming into our family, these days feel even more numbered than ever.  When Adam was Noah's age, I was pregnant with Noah.  I could have a toddler and another one on the way!  Instead I've got a sweet little clan that I love dedicating my days and nights to, and there are so many things that I don't want to forget as these young mothering years seem to be evaporating behind me.

When I say I'll be done in five minutes, Emma and Noah count to five and then expect me to be done.  I did say five, didn't I?

When I ask for a volunteer for the prayer, four hands usually shoot up.

When we are reading scriptures, there is a lot of rolling around on the ground and sneakily playing with toys behind the dollhouse and hiding in the netted canopy in the library.  But they are listening.

When Emma and I snuggle up for a nap, I squeeze her tight and she tells me that I'm her best mommy and I tell her that she's my naptime snuggle buns and we both love it.  I'm going to miss her so much in the fall.

When I tuck Adam into bed at night he always talks and talk and talks while I'm scratching his back, then when I stop scratching he stops talking and says, "Will you scratch my back?" and when I tell him I just did he doesn't remember it and insists that I do it again.

When we play Sardines, Noah always calls out, "Found ya!"  He forgets that he's supposed to quietly join the hiding crowd.

When we say our family prayer in the morning we always end with an all-hands-in "family power!" after we count to 12.  Noah often comes running over just a minute too late and then dissolves into tears because he missed it as I'm scooting the big kids out the door.

When Adam is finally ready to head out the door, he always walks down the driveway backwards, blowing me kisses and kisses and kisses and calling, "I love you, Mommy!!"

When I hug and kiss Noah I take a big sniff and say, "You're delicious!  I'm gonna spread you on a cracker!" and he squirms and laughs an dsays, "Nooooo!  Don't eat me!!"

Whenever I sit down with a book, I've immediately got a couchful of kids piled in around me.  (One of my mantras for the year is, "Life is not an emergency".  There is plenty of time to sit and read every day.)

Whenever I burp, my kids all call out, "Bravo!  Bravo!"  I'm not sure where this came from, but they are always so proud of me when I let it out, even though I know I've told them that I try really hard not to burp out loud.

When Daddy is out of town we do things a little differently.  I've learned that the less effort I put into a meal the more my kids love it, so we eat pancakes and smoothies and popcorn and they are just happy little campers.

When there were babies inside my tummy, questions about how those babies got there were more regular.  But the questions still come, and usually out of the blue.  The other day Adam clarified, "So, you can't choose if the baby is a boy or a girl, but you can choose when the seed goes in and makes a baby, right?  How does it do that... oh right, by doing that thing.  So can you choose whether or not the seed comes out when you're doing that?"  To which I deflected, "You should ask Daddy.  He's the one who's got the seeds."

When they're outside playing, it becomes a great game to ring the doorbell and have Mommy answer it.  I always act surprised and say, "Oh hello there!  Would you like to come inside?"

When I sing, they listen.  Whether it's , "Mr. Hug-a-bug Bear" or "I Had a Little Turtle" or "Love is Spoken Here" or a silly poem like "Wee Willy Winky" or "Hey Diddle Diddle", they're listening.  And sometimes they demand to know where a song came from, and they rarely believe me when I say I made it up.  I sing, "My name is Noah! My name is Noah!  And I am cute!  And I am cute!  My mommy loves me! My mommy loves me!  And I eat fruit (or sometimes I toot)" and he just cracks up.

When Leah comes down for breakfast in the morning, I almost always do a double take.  When did she get so tall?  And she is still so beautiful.  And when we hug she still rests her head on my chest and I tuck her under my chin because I still can, and we both love it.

When I hug them I always say, "You're my best boy" or "You're my best girl" and none of them refute it or ask how that actually works since I have two boys and two girls.  They just believe it, because it's true.