Just Joy

Little Dude is an extremely happy boy (except of course when he is unhappy, the look out world).

Today I was just thinking about how genuinely joyful he is and how much I have learned from his contagious joy.

A few weeks ago we went to an indoor water park and I have never seen anyone so excited.  His whole body literally trembled with glee.  When I would get ready to put him down his little legs were already running.  When he smiles his whole body smiles.  Like pure happiness just exudes from him.  He claps, jumps, and squeals as happiness just cannot be contained in his body anymore.

Even everyday things he finds so much to be happy about, playing with his cars, building a tower and knocking it over.. nothing is to mundane.  Whenever music is on he is dancing.  He has quite a set of moves!  His imagination is limitless he puts on capes and flies around the house with lightening speed.  LittleDude does not really walk places.  He runs. And jumps.  If there is a puddle he must jump in it.  If there is a something that looks intriguing it must be explored. Balls are thrown, furniture (and everything climbed) the world is an adventure.  I wonder what goes through his head. 

LittleDude will grab my hand and pull me to something he wants to show me.  He will run and jump into my arms with total faith that I will catch him.  Then throw his body onto me in a hug that can melt anyone, squeezing with his arms around me.  These greetings do not happen after I have been away for days, hours, or even minutes.  It could be he was just happy to see me in the living room.
When I sit down on the floor he often runs and grabs a story and then backs into my lap (really the backing into my lap to sit is the most adorable thing ever) and we read. 

When he wants to breastfeed (yes, at nearly 2 years old he nurses), he'll grab my hand and lead me to our spot for some cuddles and milk.  He'll hug me and play with my hair, gazing into my eyes while we just can soak up the moment. Until he decides to be silly and playfully bite or pull my hair (all in good fun).

Outside is always fun.  When the big kids start suiting up to go play in the snow he follows suit.  He knows his snow pants and how to put them on, he waits patiently for his boots (which he finds and brings over), coat, and mittens.  But he puts his hat on himself.  That is one way he tells you he is ready to go outside: he goes to the door and puts on his hat.

LittleDude loves animals.  You may think with so many of them being so much larger than he is he may be scared, but he isn't he loves the dogs and gives them treats and pets.  They return his adoration.  The cats tolerate him. Going to see the horses is super fun.  He loves to brush them, give them treats, and ride.  The horses also are so gentle with  him  it is shocking. When they gently take a carrot from him and he squeals with excitement, often he is met with a nicker of affection.

At night he sleeps with me.  We go to bed and he snuggles in for some milky, and adjusts a bit to get comfortable.  Usually he'll end up half on top of my chest with his ear on my heart and his fingers in my hair. I can smell his unique scent and drink the time in.  I complain a lot about this sometimes, but truth of it is, I love the closeness with him.  I love watching him smile in his sleep, his eyes dance with dreams.  I love being there if he wakes up scared so I can comfort him. 

All of this joy and happiness have taught me to see the miracles in the small things.  Feel the joy in the smallest things.  Allowing myself to get super excited and not feel embarrassed about it.  To take more time to experience life instead of racing through it.

"oh my you've got your hands full!"

Any time I take my kids somewhere I get this.

"Wow.  Your hands are full!"  or
"Are they all yours?" or
"Do you know how this happens?" or
"Are you done yet?" or
"Are you crazy?"

Yes, my hands are full.  But so is my heart.  I have 5 kids.  5.  One whole handful.  One amazing group of kids. I am thankful for every.single.one of them.  Each of them is a blessing.

But you see-- my hands are full- but my heart is more full.  My kids are so loving and so joyful (most of the time- everyone has their days).  I cannot imagine life without all of them.  They are my heart.

Yes. They are all mine--well kind of.  And my husband's.  And our families (family not being limited to relatives- family meaning everyone who we love and who loves us-- which is A LOT more than blood relatives), they are also G-d's children. He for some reason- that I may never understand fully blessed me with these 5 great kids- He entrusted them to me- I don't know why- but He did.

Yes. I know how it happens. I was a Biological Sciences major in college-- got this one down.

Meh. If it happens it happens.  Truth be told- I was not expecting any of my kids.  They were all amazing surprises and great blessings.

Sure, I'm crazy.  We all are crazy in our own way.  Crazy keeps things interesting.

The Sock Saga

One of the things that annoy me most are the sighs and grumbles and under the breath mutterings that say so much with out saying a single word.

Today, I called my husband out on it, he does the under breath grumbles quite often.  He used to actually say something picky about it. So maybe this is progress, but whatever-- it bothers me a lot.  I am left feeling like I can do nothing right, or good enough, not a good feeling.

Wait--- for this story to makes sense you need context right?

Our house has a hard time keeping track of lids.  Lids to juice, to water, to anything--- it will get lost.

Last night husband was in the cupboard and noticed the Tylenol, and he noticed the lid was missing from the Tylenol (of course).  He grumbled, grunted, sighed heavily, and with an 'ugh' worthy of a Grand Slam Tennis serve, he shut the door.

I went on with the evening feeling less than, like I could do nothing good enough.  Thus the confrontation.

He defended himself saying that he isn't saying anything.  I countered that it was not what he was saying it was the message that was being put across.

Anyway, to the socks.  He takes off his socks next to the bed. and leaves.them.there. This used to really bother me- I told him so-- that in fact there were his socks on the side of the bed at that very moment and I just had to give it up and make the best of it... not grumble or endure it.  That now instead of grumbling about the socks I just pick them up and toss them down the stairs. No harm. No foul. Life goes on.

He had to walk over to the side of the bed to verify that in fact there were socks on the side of the bed- and that they were HIS socks.. Despite walking over to his side of the bed... noting the presence of the socks-- he did not pick them up.  Instead he just went downstairs.