Do I wish I'd never started this routine? No, these moments are precious. And few.
Every time I sing our silly little song, I'm adding one more good memory to her bank of childhood memories. Perhaps that memory will help lessen the stickiness of the memory I made when I lost my temper with her earlier. At least I hope it works that way.
My children have only one childhood.
Yes, the endless requests for me to "watch this!" and the countless interruptions when I'm trying to finish a project and the continual resistance to potty training nearly drive me to eating grass like Nebuchadnezzar. I'm not a patient person by nature. In fact, sometimes I wonder if God dozed off when I conceived each child! How He thought I would handle all this is beyond me!
Thankfully, His grace is sufficient. His power is made perfect in my weakness.
So when the days stretch long and naptimes are short, I have to focus in on the small details. Like the way the blond curls bounce and the eyes light up with excitement and the chubby little hands reach out to me. The way that the older takes the hand of the younger to help her over the snow drift. The way they squeal when Daddy tosses them in the air. The way her eyes soften in rest when I quote the 23rd Psalm before bed.
In five years, these babies will no longer be babies. Those precious tender years will be gone forever. Five years is such a short time.
So can't I read just one more book? Can't I kiss just one more invisible owie...without a tinge of frustration? Can't I listen to just one more long-drawn explanation of nothing without telling her to go find something to do and let mommy work?
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