My back glass door always has fingerprints on it. My laundry basket is never empty. There are always crumbs tucked away in the corners of our minivan. There’s constantly little stacks of things to be brought up and put away on our stairs. If I let those things being undone stare me down each day, it wouldn’t be good. So instead I focus on how happy it makes me to see rubber boots sitting at the front door, ready to splash in puddles. There’s a bookbag stuffed with library books on our bench that my girl is devouring each week with some of my favorite childhood classics. There’s ragtag Giraffey, laying on top of Jasper’s quilt, ready to be loved and smothered at bedtime. There’s gluey, glittery art on my fridge that’s made for me.
In the same way, I feel like lately I’ve been focusing a lot on behavior and heart attitudes that we are working on with our kids. It’s taken up a lot of time, conversations with Ben and my thoughts. If there’s one thing I have come to realize seven years into motherhood….it’s that there are always things to be worked on (in them and in me!) and I don’t want to miss a bit of the beauty that is in my kids today.
This is where I feel so thankful for this gift of photography. Seeing those faces makes me grateful, thankful, and knowing just how blessed I am to be their mother. It reminds me that on days where there have been timeouts, separations, and “talks” that there are also all kinds of good things going on.
A little boy bellowing “Blessed be the Rock of my Salvation” at the top of his lungs as he digs in the sand. A girl that is delighted in her new cherry swimsuit and is chatting about potential crafts and praying for her friends. Another boy who crawls around with his baby brother, kissing him at every chance. A baby who is just happy to be held and loved.
This is what is important. My kids in the backyard, just mucking around after dinner and me taking the time to see, really see who they are.
Theo gives in to the temptation to eat grass.
I don’t want my kids to remember a childhood of their mother focused on their flaws. I want my kids to know that their mum loved them, taught them, enjoyed them, and saw their hearts. Perspective.