Monday, December 28, 2015

A Random Memory from this Year

You, picking out your second pair of glasses.  
They looked just like my own.  Except yours are purple.
I said, "Psalmie, are you SURE these are the glasses you want?"
Thinking you might not like them when you realize they don't match everything--and/or that they are practically mirror-images of mine.
"Yes!  I want these!  They're just like yours, Momma!"

When you said that, I can only describe my response as "elation."  Something happened inside of me then.  You said you WANTED them because they looked like mine.  I looked at you, then.  You weren't saying that to "please me."  You were saying that factually, as if you wanted to be like me.  

I know this doesn't last forever, that one day soon you will be adamant about finding your own style, your own way, but I just want to "drink it in," as they say, and remember that always--when you wanted to be like me, sport glasses just like mine.

I so love you, kid.  (You cannot imagine how much.)

For the record, your glasses are so YOU.  Everyone comments about them.  While you do look like a "mini me" in style, these glasses are so you, too.  They illuminate and feature your face in such an incredible way.  You stand out in a crowd.  Your big brown eyes are highlighted behind these lenses.

You are amazing to watch.  I am thankful to be here to witness you. 

Love Love Love Love Love Love Love (x infinity),
Mommy

To My Sassy Darling

Ahhhh....you.

You are seven now, a sassy darling. 
So smart and talented, so incredibly funny.
I love everything about you.
Of course I do.

Ahhhh...you.

Make me love until it hurts,
I hug you so tightly you complain,
"Momma, that's too much!"
You are my everything.

Ahhhh...you.

Growing up before my eyes,
No more gradual changes,
It seems to be happening
A l l  a t  o n c e .

Ahhhh...you.

If I could slow time, I sometimes think,
I would...(or would I?) 
I am utterly grateful for each moment,
I don't want to miss a thing.

Ahhhh...you.

I think back over this past year:
You at Disneyworld.  Us in Hogwarts.
You in starting second grade,
Starring in your first play.

Ahhh...you.
I love you so.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

I am so Thankful for YOU

Psalmie,

I just wanted you to know how very thankful to GOD I am for you.

You are a bright light in my life and in this world.

You are well into your 6th year--and you remind me nearly every day that you're "not seven yet," but you are looking so very forward to being that old--SEVEN!  It's funny to me how "age conscious" you are.  I suppose it's due to all the kids at school comparing ages--it must matter very much, I'm guessing, who is the oldest and who is not.  I wonder if they make you feel somehow more "immature" because you are very nearly the youngest in your class.

I was almost always the youngest in my class, too.  And while it did get frustrating, at times, that I was always "late" in experiencing every major milestone of childhood, I look back now and wonder why or how I ever allowed it to bother me.  But I suppose we do, to some degree, no matter who we are.

You make a beautiful six-year-old.  You're the kind of six-year-old they base book series on:  you are funny and sassy and smart and act as if you're 16 much of the time you're talking.

A few weeks ago, there was a "Show and Tell" at church, and you didn't want to take any of the toys that you own and normally play with because you were concerned that they were "for babies."  (It was apparent to me that the older kids in your class are probably making note of everything they think "is for kiddies" or whatever they want to call it these days.)  When I heard you say that, it hurt my heart, because I know that you are already having to deal with the pressure of "what everyone else has to say"--and it's not coming from adults--it's from kids your own age.

I hate that kids are trying to pressure you to grow up so fast.  What they don't know is that THIS is the time to be having the time of your life!  THIS?  This childhood?  It only happens once, and then it's over and the world of adult responsibility moves in, and nothing is the same, ever, again.  I wish I could just TELL you that.  Help you know that it's "okay" NOT to grow up so fast, to have fun, be imaginative, for as long as possible.  Be happy where you are!

I hope you're having a great childhood.  I pray that you are.  

Today, we drove to Ft.Smith to get birthday gifts.  Every now and then, as you do, you would turn to me and say, "I love you, Mom."  (Recently, you asked me if it was "okay" if you called me "Mom" instead of "Momma" or "Mommy.")  I looked at you, for as long as I could afford (I was driving!) and said, with all my heart, though I'm not sure you knew it at the time:  "I love you, too, Psalmie."

And I do.

Psalmie, I love you with all of my heart.  You are such a blessing to me, such a miracle from God.  I love you more than you could EVER know...the word "love" just isn't enough, it seems, in quantifying my feelings for you, sis.  

Blessings to you, my darling girl,
Love forever & ever,
Mommy

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Your First Audition

Something MAJOR happened this week that I wanted to record here for you:  you auditioned for your first play!  

I am so proud of you!

I had heard there were going to be auditions for the children's musical, "Junie B. Jones."  The community theatre here in Poteau is producing it.

When I asked you if you were interested in auditioning, you were very enthusiastic!

I explained the auditioning process--that it might be difficult to actually get the part, but you were not swayed:  you wanted to audition, come what may!

The evening of the audition, we went to the Poteau High School choir room.  You were dressed in this cute but comfortable outfit that was, I thought, "so you" when I went to Walmart to find you something new to wear.

I had looked at outfits that really weren't you--some of the clothes were animal print and "racy" for your age (not you); several were "church dresses" (fine for Sundays, but not your style throughout the week); some were too "branded"(you love Minnie and Frozen, but I wasn't sure that was the vibe you wanted to send).  As I looked through the racks and shelves of clothes, I found that I was faced with a serious decision:  Do I dress you up to be someone you're not?  Or do I find something that is YOU?

There were so many things to choose from that I just stopped and prayed.

That was when I found a really cute shirt (with the Minions on it!) and a pair of jeans.  The shirt was PERFECT.  It had all of the Minions on it, but they were all making faces, "acting faces," and the shirt colors were among your favorites:  purple and gray.  It was three-quarters sleeve, a baseball style shirt, and it looked just like you:  cute, laid back, and sassy.

Everyting started coming together--I found socks and shoes rather easily--and I made it home to change you just in time to get to auditions.

We signed the list and filled out a questionairre and then sat in the floor of a hallway for about an hour awaiting your turn to audition.

There were some things I had to talk to you about:  They weren't going to allow me to come in to the audition to watch--or help--with your first audition.  So I wanted to make sure that you understood that you needed to smile and speak (and speak loudly and clearly/articulately when you did) when they asked.  I also let you know about the auditioning process:  I knew they were going to ask you to sing and read.

No matter what I said, you were nonplussed.  You just looked at me in the way that you do and said, "Okay, mom." You were so calm the entire time we waited, actually.

I was the one battling nerves, but not you.

And when it was time for you to go audition, you just got up and went on in there like you'd been doing this all your life.

There you were, six years old.  You often say to me, "I'm six years old, and I know what I'm doing." You sure seemed to know exactly what you were doing that night!

I waited a long twenty minutes or so in the hallway--they wouldn't let parents peer in through the door or stand too close to it--just praying that you were okay, comfortable, appreciated, welcomed.

And then, after a long wait, here you came--out the door with a big smile on your face!  

(I was so relieved!)

Two of the older girls that helped with the auditions found me and told me how cute you were!  I thought, "Well, that's a good sign!"

And then, on the way home, I asked you what had happened, and you told me that you had sang (in front of total strangers!) your ABCs to P and read for two parts!  You said things like, "I read for the part of Ms. Whatshername (though you knew her actual name).  And you told me:

 "The big kids helped me with words I didn't know."  (You'd gone in with four other kids who were much older than you--sixth-eighth grade!)

"How many words didn't you know?" I asked.

"Three," you said, confidently. 

I couldn't believe it. You sounded like a pro, like you'd done this a million times!

At the end of your audition, the director had come outside and looked the four parents who remained in the hallway in the eyes and said, "Parents, we had so many children come and audition.  This is going to be a very difficult cast to choose.  We had lots of talented new faces...."  I already knew what she was saying.  The Junie B. Jones books are so successful, tons of kids came out to be a part of the production!  When I looked at the sign up sheet when we got there, I estimated there to be about 50 kids auditioning.

We waited with everyone else the three long days for the cast list to be posted.

You weren't on it.

You told me that morning when I talked to you, when I tried to explain that you weren't going to be in the show but we would go watch it,  "I'm okay, Mom."  

You're so grown up already.

Your words made me feel much better about the entire thing.  I had wanted you to be in that show so badly--I thought it would be a great First Show with which to get involved, but it just wasn't God's Will for now, was it?

-----------------------------------

Days before the audition, you and I had been discussing this new opportunity and the auditioning process.  You were so excited.  I tried to give you some idea of what it meant to be in a show.  But I kept explaining that, "Even if you don't get a part, we will still go see it, okay?"  

And that's when we held hands and prayed.  We prayed for God's Will, not ours, in this situation.  We prayed for favor (which you received) and the Right Thing to happen.

And it did.

One of the things I wanted you to know, Psalm:  We trust God in EVERYthing.  In EVERY part (no pun intended, it just worked out that way) of our lives, we give it to Him.  He knows what's best.  We can TRUST HIM.

I love you, kid.  

You bless my heart every day.  

----------------------------------

Post Script:
I am reminded about the passage in the Bible that says that all of the stories of Jesus are not recorded in the Bible--if they were, they would fill a huge book!  That's how I feel about this blog, sissy.  I wish I could sit down and record all of the wonderful stories about your life, every day! You are wonderful every single day.  You bless me every moment of every day.  I love you so much, my darling girl.  So, so much!