SHE IS 8! Eight means no longer seven, eight means two years away from double digits. Eight means 3rd grade is sneaking up on us. I cannot believe our 2nd born is eight years old.
Channing is a bright and beautiful girl. She is always eager to help around the house, almost always going above and beyond what is expected of her. She enjoys helping me cook and bake. She could play school for hours on end, alone. She cherishes anything that is given to her, always very proud and thankful no matter what it is. She just recently got a new (new to her) bedroom suit and was so proud that she brought all the neighborhood kids in the house to see it. She has also consistantly been making her bed without being asked since receiving it as well. Channing loves to learn new things and she often watches my odd and quirky movies that I am interested in. She is always asking how she can help me and she can even be a little bossy at times; a quality that may just come in handy as an adult. (Wink)
With each passing day all I can hear is Taylor Swift's song "Never Grow Up" ringing in my ears. It reminds me that my kids are growing up and I am getting older as well. All the things happening in my life right now won't ever happen again. Channing is 8. Seven is now yesterday. The words of the song remind me to stop and listen to all the sounds around me, to focus my eyes on the little moments because we can't get them back. As our children grow they become more and more vulnerable to the outside world. With each year, they become a little wiser, a little more exposed, a little less innocent. As childhood slips away our roles change, as parents and as kids. I look back and think of how I couldn't wait until they stopped wearing diapers, I couldn't wait until they were walking and talking and now if only time could stand still.
Let these moments last God, stop the clock for a bit. Let me take a deep breath and inhale all the sweetness of my children's laughter, let my ears rest on silly words that come from their mouths, let me taste the tears that I wipe from their eyes so that I can remember sharing in their pain. I want to vividly remember each and every color surrounding us when we have "Family Fun Day." (A new family tradition we started this past year.) With each passing day, I truly embrace motherhood even more...thinking of new ways to create memories. Sharing my passions with my kids, showing them my softer side, wanting my kids to have more good memories of their life with me than not, wanting to leave them a legacy of love, kindness, patience and understanding and joy.
I could never be thankful or greatful enough for being blessed with three amazing kids. I have doubted myself so much as a mother but as the years pass by it seems I'm finally getting the hang of it. Either that or God just has a fabulous sense of humor because there have been more days than not where I have questioned myself as a mom. Thinking I'm not cut out for this, motherhood is to hard, too heartbreaking, too exhausting. Then comes along one of these kids, babies who once grew inside my body. Who caused my belly to swell and stretch. Babies who completely depended on me, who grew to love me and gave me wet, messy kisses to show their love. Babies who, too quickly grew to be five years old...two who watched me cry as I left them on the first day of school and one will soon follow. Babies who depended on us to not let go of the bike when they were learing to ride without training wheels. Baby girls who, all dressed up and were thrilled beyond words to escorted by their dad to the annual daddy-daughter dance. Babies who come to me in tears hoping I will fix whatever is wrong. In those rare times I actually can fix the problem, peace sets in and pride washes over me in waves. It is then I think "Ok God, you have me right where I am supposed to be."
Make sure to pause my playlist at the bottom before watching this.
Enjoy!
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