Her emotions wear a cape, soaring her high out of reach where I can’t bring her back close to me. From far away she looks at me with helplessness, “Mom, help me. I don’t know what to do! I feel out … Continue reading
My boy: lover of sports, SpongeBob Squarepants, Oregon Ducks, quesadillas, math, friendship, family, and the occasional princess movie–especially if there is a really cool bad guy.
Dear Peanut,
I know I am biased because I am your mother, but I have to say you are one amazing kiddo. You move around so much playing sports, playing with friends, riding your bike, and pestering your little sister that I don’t often get to stop and reflect on who you are and who I see you becoming to be.
When I think about you on this very special day, the first words I think of are happy, energetic, hands-on, quick, smart, and bright. You are caring and sensitive–which is sometimes hard to see because you are always on the move, but in your quieter moments, the soft and aware side of your heart shines. It is so beautiful, Peanut.
You have a sharp and inquisitive mind–always keep a wondering and seeking mind, Sean. You trend toward math and science (though you claim to “hate” math); I love how you ask a million questions about how the world operates and throw impossible math questions to Dad and me, like “What’s 1,567,654 divided by 75,000, 563 times the square root of 56?” You are so gracious when we simply answer, “Probably some sort of decimal number.” I think you are fascinated that with math you can pour out a string a of numbers in any sort of equation, and with a proper solving process, get a legitimate answer. You are keenly aware that numbers never end–infinite possibilities are intriguing and fun to chase.
You are a great big brother and confidently hold your status as older and 
wiser. Though you are a bit impatient (that isn’t your fault, you get that from me), you enjoy teaching, leading, and loving your sister. You get annoyed when Haley hangs around too much, yet you miss her when she is gone. You claim to hate playing and/or watching anything with princesses, yet you oblige her wishes when you desire time with Haley. You fight and compete with each other to the point where sometimes I wonder if you actually like each other, yet you two always amaze (and perplex me) when you find the space of acceptance and peace with one another. She loves being around you because in her eyes, you are the coolest, safest, and most fun kid to hang around. I pray you two always remain close to one another.
This week, I became aware that you are moving into an age (8 years old today!) where you begin to decide who you want to be. You opened up to your dad the other day that you are being bullied on the baseball field. It broke our hearts and, of course, we wanted to oblige your request to skip camp practice to avoid the pain. Yet, our greater desire is to teach you how to be your best in the face of pain–because that is how you grow stronger and wiser and how you develop compassion for others who struggle.
You and I had the most wonderful conversation in the hallway–me in my pajamas and you bare down to your undershorts. With tears streaming down your face I told you to look at me–“Baseball is your passion. These guys who taunt you are trying to chase you away from what you love. If you don’t go today, those guys win. Mission accomplished for them. What’s our top rule in Taekwondo? Always believe in yourself. You go out on that field and show them you can’t be chased away–you’re there to play ball. When they are too busy poking fun at you, you are on the ball field getting better at your craft. Believe in yourself and don’t worry about these other guys. We are never to give up… if you don’t go today, you give up. And you aren’t a quitter–you are competitive and you want to win. You can’t win if you stay home today.”
“But I am only one person and there are like 10 of them. It’s really hard.”
“You’re darn straight it’s hard! And scary!” I told you the story of David and Goliath. Tiny little David stood up to a giant and knocked him down with nothing but a single stone square between the eyes. “With God you get superhuman power. It’s already inside of you; you have the power within you stand strong, even when you are scared, against one giant, 10 bullies, an army of 1000 men. Say a prayer when you step on to the field, God is standing at the plate with you.” This story stopped your tears and put a smile on your face. You decided to go to baseball camp that day. And you rocked it!
You’re 8 years old today, and I love being your mom. What I always hold the closest to my heart is somehow in your swirl of daily movement and activity, you manage to find random and countless moments to tell me that you love me. Please know how much that means to me; a mother can never hear that too many times from her kidlets.
Happy birthday, Peanut!
I woke up and you were six years old today. Thinking back to the day you were born, I knew I was getting a gift, but I could never have imagined exactly how special you would be.
You are sweet and sassy and smart– clever with your words and emotions according to your audience and your need for expression.
You are intellectual, imaginative, and inquisitive–indulgent in your desires to learn; reading, writing, and reflecting back upon what you need to know.
You have an artist’s spirit– creative and spiritual and intuitive. Singing and dancing, creating and writing–through music and paint (and lots of glitter), pencil and paper you discover and express and wonder about life and all the lovely (and not so lovely) things it has to offer.
You have a heart for the Lord, a flowering relationship with Jesus, a trusting instinct for the Holy Spirit. You have sincere prayers, thoughtful insight to our loved ones lost, and a child-like understanding of God’s love I wish I had.
You are an observer, soaking in the thoughts and actions happening around you. (A ruminator like your mother.) Thinking, learning, contemplating, and threading life into the depths of your spirit, letting it simmer and rest until parts of it bubble up–ready for exploration and explanation.
You are bold and outspoken when you need to be–expressing injustice, advocacy, and love (oh, how much you love to love!), for the sake of others’ hearts.
Like any young girl, you desire to be older and more mature–taking pride in the moments you handle things on your own; acknowledging and indulging your growing independence.
Yet, you are six years old. My heart swells because you still seek mommy. You desire the comfort and snuggles that comes with crawling into my lap; peace of mind that you are loved and adored; validation of who you are when I tell you my favorite things about you are your heart and your mind.
You’re my little girl, my Haleybugger–my love bug–my gift whom I love and honor and admire. Happy birthday to you!
“Mom. I am not sick. I’m just tired and cold. I’m fine,” insists my five-year old daughter.
“Let me take your temperature just to be sure. If you’re fine, this will confirm it for me. Your face feels warm.”
“Okaaay. Fine.”
101.6
“Sugar bear, you feel cold because you have a fever.”
Tears welled up in Haley’s eyes and flowed down her cheeks. “But mom, I am good. I am not sick. Do I have to miss school tomorrow?”
“Not sure. We’ll have to see. Just lie down and rest.”
Haley’s fever crept up to 102.2 over the course of the afternoon. She clearly wasn’t feeling well despite her insistence that she felt good. I put her to bed early knowing school was unlikely.
Haley rose at 6:30 a.m. and bounded down the stairs. She found me lying on the sofa where I had spent the night battling my own illness. “Hi mom! I feel good today. I think I can go to school.”
“You certainly are up and at ’em today.” Something didn’t seem right to me. A mother knows when her child isn’t well.
“Yep. I am all better.”
“Let’s take your temp.”
99.6. Definitely lower yet warm enough to tell me something is invading her immune system.
“Can I go to school? Please?”
Can I just say, I’ve never in my life experienced a child (including myself) trying to get OUT of a sick day? Her brother was home just last week with strep throat, practically bragging about how many days of school he got to miss.
I narrowed my eyes on her. “You sure you are feeling okay?”
Then it happened. That curl in her grin that tells me she’s lying. “I promise, mom. I’m good.”
“Haley. Does your throat hurt?”
She casts her eyes down. “Um. No.”
“Haley. Are you telling me the truth? Does your throat hurt?”
“Only when I swallow,” she confessed quietly.
“How about your neck? Does the back of your neck hurt?” I gave her neck a gentle rub.
“No. Only when I look down.”
“Honey. I think you need to stay home today. Your body is trying really hard not to be sick. If I send you to school you are going to feel much worse later, and maybe miss even more days of school.”
Her shoulders slumped and her tears spilled over her flushed little cheeks. “Mom, please. I will miss music and library. I’m good, I promise.”
“I know how much you love school, Sugar Bear, but it isn’t fair for your friends to be around you if you aren’t well. You can accidentally spread your sick germs. Sick days at home aren’t so bad. You get to watch any movies you want as much as you want. And I’ll snuggle with you and make you soup. We’ll have a fun lazy day.”
I had to chuckle listening to myself “sell” my daughter on a sick day. It just seems hilariously absurd to me, yet I adore her heart for learning. Yesterday she finished her entire week’s homework in one 1-hour sitting. I pray she keeps this love for school and the eagerness to learn.
My view from the couch.
I will have to teach her to take care of herself though; that we cannot risk our health or anyone else’s to engage our passions. I will have to teach her that in order to pour ourselves fully into what we love, we have to take time to rest our body when it is tired and unwell …
Which means I will have to practice what I preach.
As I type, I realize she takes completely after me. I fought my symptoms for three days, chalking them up to “allergies” before finally admitting illness yesterday. Oye.
So today, we are both learning, resting, and enjoying each other’s company with popcorn, movies, and blankets.
Writings and Ruminations 