The Many Philosophical Faces Of Three

When a child turns three, she begins to take life a bit more seriously. Three is a time of great cognizance and skepticism, an era of bold exploration into the great mysteries about the meaning of it all. A bit of existentialism creeps in as the Three begins to question language and connotations and the authenticity of the human experience. So when you tell the little Three to smile for the camera, suspicion arises. Why should I smile in such a bleak, cruel world? Doubts give way to stark expressions.

But it isn’t long before the darkness passes as the heightened senses of the Three begin to recognize the aesthetic  pleasures the world has to offer. Sunshine. Flowers. Incredibly beautiful, camera-wielding moms.

Happiness blossoms and reigns anew.

As the Three’s enjoyment grows, so does her consciousness. Her acute observation skills allow her to pick up on key elements in her surroundings, and this heightened awareness can lead to feelings of intellectual superiority. Three becomes quite assured of her cerebral prowess – so much so, in fact, that she finds the actions and words of others to be absurd.

It is precisely that absurdity that brings about deeper ponderings in the Three’s mind, often to the point of confusion. Sometimes, despite her usual assuredness, the Three becomes bewildered by those things with which she typically is so familiar.

Finally, the Three does what any Age would do when faced with baffling circumstances. Like a chameleon, she swiftly adapts to her environment. She tosses out society norms, flies in the face of all propriety, and flaunts her own brand of weirdness.

Meanwhile, the One’s expressions remain fairly consistent - a perpetual state of perplexity, most likely due to the antics of the Three.

Energies And Allergies...And A Fountain Deep And Wide

“Deep and wide, deep and wide…”

Hannah sings in the backseat of the car. It’s a song she learned at church – one that I actually never learned as a kid – but I know it’s about a fountain flowing deep and wide, a fountain that never runs dry. It’s a fountain of love born out of grace, always there to refresh a weary wanderer.

Oh, how I understand that fountain of love more than ever before, as a parent. A mama’s love is as deep and wide, as ever-flowing, as longsuffering, and at times, as painfully beautiful. It’s a love that separation or loss or hurt or anything could never, ever take away.

It’s a love that I hope she’s learning about as she absorbs knowledge like a sponge, soaking it all in. I hope I am teaching her enough. I hope I am everything I need to be for her, at this vital age.

But all I need to do is make sure she knows that my fountain is always here, ready and waiting when she needs it. She may forget every once in a while – because, after all, learning is a process. It takes time. It takes mistakes. It takes patience.

Sometimes we get stuff backwards. We might have something completely wrong but are so sure that it’s right, simply because it’s what we’ve told ourselves over and over again in our heads. We keep repeating it because it’s what we know to be true, what we’ve come to cling to.

But part of the learning process is letting go of the wrong and clinging to the right.

When she wants a treat, she won’t always ask for ‘snack fruits’.   

                                      

One day she’ll no longer call it a ‘stump tree’.

 

She’ll get it right when she asks to play with the ‘paint fingers’.

 

It’s just part of the process. We have to get it backwards for a while.

That kid amazes me every day – as does her little brother who’s not so little anymore – and I’m incredibly thankful for them. I don’t know what I’d do without that deep and wide fountain of love they’ve brought into my life.

I don’t know what my life would be like without conversations like these:

*Cough, cough*

“Mama, I have too much energies.”

“I know you have energy. You’re bouncing all over the place.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m coughin’. Cause I have energies.”

“Ooooh, you mean allergies, honey.”

“Yeah, I got lotsa allergies.”

“Well, you have lots of energy. Energy is what makes you jump around and run and play. Allergies are what make you sneeze and cough.”

 “Yeah, that’s why I got lotsa allergies. Cause that’s why I’m coughin’.”

*Overemphasized cough*

“I don’t think you have allergies. But I’m certain you have too much energy.”

And I’m certain she’ll use that energy and those learning skills all throughout her life – whether she’s facing the planned out, predictable, and mundane…or the wild, uncharted adventure that twists and turns far off in the distance.

She’ll get the words right.

She’ll seek the fountain.

It’s all part of the process.
 

Heard Around The House

To Princess Cindy: "Your Magic Steve"
 {Your Majesty}



To Peter Rabbit: "Don't go into Mr. Cracker's garden."















To Abram: A whole lot of "No, you're not posta do that!"

To Mama: "My Love" {Because that's what I call her. Sigh, melts my heart.)

What have you heard around your house lately?


And also, what do you think of the new blog design? I'm finally getting around to fixing it up!

Through The Eyes Of A Preschooler

When is a toddler considered a preschooler?

I think there are many different schools of thought on this, but I can't help but think it's time to let go and move Hannah into that category. It has been a while since she has even looked like a toddler to me, and she's just too smart, too tall, and too agile to still be a 'toddler'. My little baby is growing up.

But don't worry - she's still hilarious.

She's still learning about the world, and that process of learning leads to some funny stuff coming out of her mouth. Life is different through her eyes than it is through mine, and I love looking through her lens.

In Hannah's mind...

The color of this background is called 'wipes'. Obviously, because baby wipes are also this color.

This stuff is called 'scare-up'. (Coincidentally, this is an accurate description for some people):

This is a 'red tayto'. Emphasis on the 'red'. Because the green taytos are not allowed to be picked from the garden:

When this light turns red, even if it is a mile down the road, the logical thing to do is yell "STOP! STOP THE CAR!" 

(Perhaps holding off  a little longer on the traffic education could have prevented some heart attacks. Hindsight.)

And now, mama's personal favorite. This, my friends, is a 'baby jackwater':

Oh, how my world is so much more colorful now that I get to share it with a sweet little mind!

And there is always something on that mind.