My deepest, most secret fear in the last three years had been spun around my firstborn, my Eden. The last 6 months have been a soothing salve for these disconcerting doubts, and I have to remember them when I struggle with the next three-year-old. (If you happen to be a young parent, allow me to warn you: FORGET about the terrible twos. Three-year-olds are the ones to fear.) As she comes to terms with the world into which she has been thrust, Eden is showing herself to be a sweet, thoughtful, inquisitive little girl. Her questions are incessant, and when I remember myself and am patient in answering them, I am amazed at their poignancy and the intelligence they suggest. Questions could be about anything, but lately there have been lots of queries about what Heaven is like, if it hurts when we die, how Jesus takes us to Heaven, if God will understand if she is "shy of him" at first. There are also lines of questions about anything she observes that is different from HER reality: if we're leaving the library to go home for lunch, she doesn't understand why EVERYBODY isn't leaving the library to go home for lunch. If we're driving to church, she wants to know why anybody would be driving in the opposite direction. The questions, the questions, the questions... the great lesson is for Derek and me: patience, listening, using our voices when we're tired of using our voices, keeping perspective as a mind expands to make sense of the world. I try to remember, too, that it won't be long before my opinion is the last one she seeks. The responsibility is heavy, and we are honored to bear it.
~Eden makes up songs and expects you to sing along.
~Eden makes up games and expects you to know the rules.
~Eden sets up scenarios with her tiny flocked kitties and stuffed toys during her rest time, different ones each day... and yet SOMEhow, she remembers the precise position of each figure and the explanation behind why.
~Eden and Judah are "the big kids" around these parts, and Judah is lost without his big sister around. She loves her little sister, too, and no one can get Selah to laugh as easily as Eden.
~Eden has just begun saying "smile" and "pile" instead of "smi-lah" and "pi-lah." (This is heartbreaking, but she does still employ her signature kiss which uses just the teeniest tip of her tongue. I can't really explain the technique but to say that it was how she initially achieved the kiss sound she heard, and it thus became how to kiss. A little wetter than a traditional peck, but adorable nonetheless.)
~Eden writes her name and sounds out words. She has begun adding numbers together and even (I can't believe I'm saying this) MULTIPLYING on her own. ("Hey mom! I know that three, and three, and three, is nine! And mom! I know that two, and two, and two, and two more, and two MORE is TEN!" This is unprompted and untrained, I kid you not.)
~We got rid of the pacifier just over a year ago, but Eden does still use her "special blanket" when she goes to sleep or is feeling sad and needs to "calm down." The rest of the items in and around her bed are an ever-changing melange that reside in particular places for particular reasons known only to Miss Eden.
~Favorite songs include Arky Arky, I'm a Little Teapot, Trust and Obey, and "Our Song," referring to her daddy's sing-along version of Iko Iko.
~The impeccable color sense I touted in my toddler has not waned in the slightest. Eden consistently selects color schemes that would impress any color theory professor. She still strongly dislikes black, gray, and especially white, and asks to use my nice colored pencils for the much wider color variety they afford her, and I am happy to oblige: I remember the longing for something more sophisticated than Crayola at a young age, as well, and if there is a four-year-old who can be trusted with them, it's Eden. (Plus, she puts them back where they go, separated into color groups. :)
~Eden says she is going to be a teacher when she grows up. I can see her in this profession, as her love for order and policing rules are well-developed. Within our family, she puts herself in the adult category as often as with the kids, and I sometimes have to remind her that she does NOT have the authority to put her brother in a time-out.
~Large motor skills are heavily outweighed by the fine motor skills at this point, and I'm thankful that with preschool comes built-in outside play three days a week. Even in the beautiful summer months, I have to FORCE this child outside, as she'd prefer to play with small manipulatives or do an art project at the table.
~Eden's theatrics have simmered down considerably, and we very seldom need to discipline her beyond a talking-to; even time-outs are rare. She's still a sensitive little thing, and we experience sad tears many times daily, but these are relatively short-lived.
~Named toys and dolls include Camily the plastic elephant, Fuschia the baby doll, Rutabaga the dog (whom Judah owns but allowed Eden to name... he calls her "Begga,") three kittens named Sister, Black, and Goose, and a number of assorted jibberish names that she somehow remembers.
Eden is my firstborn, and a girl. She was four-and-a-half years old the day she started preschool this week.
She is like me in many ways, but in others, the chasm between us feels impassable. I am learning just how complex and sensitive the mother-daughter relationship is, and though I try to give her all I can, I spend more time at her bedside praying for the next day's patience and wisdom than I do at the other kids'. I fear that I am too harsh with her, too callous about her right-at-the-surface emotions, too expectant that she will live up to the expectations put upon her as the eldest. Her demands for time and attention can feel overbearing, but they boil down to little more than an honest connection and an uninterrupted activity with just mom. I scold myself bitterly at my seat next to her bed on the nights I feel like I failed at even this, and promise the tall, sleeping girl in my baby's bed that I will not fail her tomorrow.
I am more in love with you today, Eden Johanna, than ever before. My prayer is that you know this with the certainty of the breath in your lungs and the brown in your eyes.
~Eden makes up songs and expects you to sing along.
~Eden makes up games and expects you to know the rules.
~Eden sets up scenarios with her tiny flocked kitties and stuffed toys during her rest time, different ones each day... and yet SOMEhow, she remembers the precise position of each figure and the explanation behind why.
~Eden and Judah are "the big kids" around these parts, and Judah is lost without his big sister around. She loves her little sister, too, and no one can get Selah to laugh as easily as Eden.
~Eden has just begun saying "smile" and "pile" instead of "smi-lah" and "pi-lah." (This is heartbreaking, but she does still employ her signature kiss which uses just the teeniest tip of her tongue. I can't really explain the technique but to say that it was how she initially achieved the kiss sound she heard, and it thus became how to kiss. A little wetter than a traditional peck, but adorable nonetheless.)
~Eden writes her name and sounds out words. She has begun adding numbers together and even (I can't believe I'm saying this) MULTIPLYING on her own. ("Hey mom! I know that three, and three, and three, is nine! And mom! I know that two, and two, and two, and two more, and two MORE is TEN!" This is unprompted and untrained, I kid you not.)
~We got rid of the pacifier just over a year ago, but Eden does still use her "special blanket" when she goes to sleep or is feeling sad and needs to "calm down." The rest of the items in and around her bed are an ever-changing melange that reside in particular places for particular reasons known only to Miss Eden.
~Favorite songs include Arky Arky, I'm a Little Teapot, Trust and Obey, and "Our Song," referring to her daddy's sing-along version of Iko Iko.
~The impeccable color sense I touted in my toddler has not waned in the slightest. Eden consistently selects color schemes that would impress any color theory professor. She still strongly dislikes black, gray, and especially white, and asks to use my nice colored pencils for the much wider color variety they afford her, and I am happy to oblige: I remember the longing for something more sophisticated than Crayola at a young age, as well, and if there is a four-year-old who can be trusted with them, it's Eden. (Plus, she puts them back where they go, separated into color groups. :)
~Eden says she is going to be a teacher when she grows up. I can see her in this profession, as her love for order and policing rules are well-developed. Within our family, she puts herself in the adult category as often as with the kids, and I sometimes have to remind her that she does NOT have the authority to put her brother in a time-out.
~Large motor skills are heavily outweighed by the fine motor skills at this point, and I'm thankful that with preschool comes built-in outside play three days a week. Even in the beautiful summer months, I have to FORCE this child outside, as she'd prefer to play with small manipulatives or do an art project at the table.
~Eden's theatrics have simmered down considerably, and we very seldom need to discipline her beyond a talking-to; even time-outs are rare. She's still a sensitive little thing, and we experience sad tears many times daily, but these are relatively short-lived.
~Named toys and dolls include Camily the plastic elephant, Fuschia the baby doll, Rutabaga the dog (whom Judah owns but allowed Eden to name... he calls her "Begga,") three kittens named Sister, Black, and Goose, and a number of assorted jibberish names that she somehow remembers.
Eden is my firstborn, and a girl. She was four-and-a-half years old the day she started preschool this week.
She is like me in many ways, but in others, the chasm between us feels impassable. I am learning just how complex and sensitive the mother-daughter relationship is, and though I try to give her all I can, I spend more time at her bedside praying for the next day's patience and wisdom than I do at the other kids'. I fear that I am too harsh with her, too callous about her right-at-the-surface emotions, too expectant that she will live up to the expectations put upon her as the eldest. Her demands for time and attention can feel overbearing, but they boil down to little more than an honest connection and an uninterrupted activity with just mom. I scold myself bitterly at my seat next to her bed on the nights I feel like I failed at even this, and promise the tall, sleeping girl in my baby's bed that I will not fail her tomorrow.
I am more in love with you today, Eden Johanna, than ever before. My prayer is that you know this with the certainty of the breath in your lungs and the brown in your eyes.
11 comments:
so very, very sweet. what a wondrous gift for your children to have this record. many of us only guess at how our mommas felt about us...
What a fun, sweet post. Loved her questions.
Someone gave us a kids book on heaven. John and I rolled our eyes expecting it to be full of sentimental dribble. We were actually really impressed when we read it. It was kid-ish but theologically sound. Very, very good. It's "What About Heaven" by Kathleen Bostrom.
Beautiful, Becky. What an amazing mom you are!!
You make me cry, again.
There is something about Fall that I think brings on the larger sense of "changing seasons", and that always makes me disqualify Autumn as my favorite season. Poignancy is just too "in your face."
In Eden's latest superlative, you and Derek are doing a FANTASTIC job of parenting your sweet little chicks.
Daaaang. Quit making me tear up.
I was thinking it was hormones...glad to know it wasn't just me welling up at this. ;) You are such an inspiration and a wonderful mother!
Through watery eyes I kept saying yes, that's her...yep...uh-huh. You've captured her well, Beck. You're a "fantastic" mother.
This makes me even more excited to bring ours into this world and this family :)
Well that should be downloaded, printed, and tucked away for years to come. I didn't tear up until I got to the "twirl". Then I lost it. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Eden sounds like a carbon copy of my Ryleigh, who, at almost nine years of age, still questions every aspect of the world around her and also still sleeps with her beloved blanket. It is evident from your photos that your children have an amazing set of parents to guide and nurture them, and while we all have days where we feel we have failed our children, they rarely see it that way.
Somehow I missed another beautiful post (My feed is letting me down!). I loved reading this and imagining my own little tike trudging off to pre-school. You captured it well.
And that first picture of Eden is stunning. She is beautiful!
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