|These girlies are my life. And only one of them listens to me about wearing tights when it's freezing outside. Oh well, I guess you have to pick your battles. Or buy them more tights.|
This week I've blogged a bit about all the sacrifice and insanity that come along with motherhood. But this week I was reminded that, of course, that's not all that motherhood is. Motherhood is actually pretty darn amazing, and so are the children that come with it.
I love nothing more than seeing my girls grow up into amazing little people--to see them start to consistently live the principles Joel and I have tried to instill in them, to see them become independent little humans that no longer need my help with every little thing, and to see them learn everything they can about the world until they will surely know more than I do. The thing is, sometimes these little humans don't always show their amazing little people-hood to us parents as often as they do to other people.
This week we had our first parent-teacher conferences of the year. And during our conference with Sophia's teacher, I actually cried.
Her teacher was telling us what a "kind and helpful soul" Sophia is, and how she is often found helping her classmates with their work. Just that morning, Mrs. G. had glanced over to see that the little girl Sophia sits next to was struggling with her math. But before she could get over to her desk, she saw Sophia lean over and start helping Rylie count with her fingers. She didn't tell her the answers, but she sat there and showed her how to find them.
That was when my eyes started welling up with tears. Sophia IS a kind and helpful soul. She will hear me lamenting about how the house is a mess and immediately start cleaning. Sure, she can dig her heels in and throw tantrums about having to do chores, but mostly, she wants to help and happily does so. I was a little embarrassed about crying, but the teacher said something about how she understood. (She's the same teacher Chloe had in second grade--back when I dropped in from the ceiling when Chloe was upset at school.)
My eyes also fill up with tears when I find cute notes like this one from Chloe:
Or when I'm watching Bria on the first Sunday of her new calling as branch chorister--a calling she was loath to accept. I helped her from the congregation by conducting the music backwards with my index finger, and she watched me intently as she mirrored my every move. During the Sacrament hymn I was a little overcome with love for her as I watched her do something I knew she hated because, in her words, she "didn't want to hurt Heavenly Father's feelings." So I broke down crying during the hymn, and, dang it, I'm crying again as I write about it.
Last night, Chloe came back from her Girl Scout trip. It's when my girls have been separated from each other for a couple days that I see how much they really love each other. It was so fun to sit at the table in Culver's and listen to them catch up with each other and talk about Ross Lynch and Harry Styles and the little old men at the pool. It gave me a little glimpse of the great friends that they will be when they're older, and, you guessed it--I started crying.
Don't worry. I promise I don't cry over everything my kids do. I may have thought about crying at Bria's parent-teacher conferences when I found out she doesn't have a single missing assignment this year, since the issue has been a struggle for her throughout middle school. But when I told her how proud I was that she has turned everything in on time, she just said, "I think it's because I got my braces off this year."
And the crazy things that come out of Bria's mouth? That, folks, is yet another reason why I became a mother.