11 Going on 20

 Two months ago you turned eleven years old. I've gone to write this blog post many times and have been stuck; not because there aren't a million great things to say about you, but because you are one of life's great treasures that I feel will be lost in mere words. Still, words are important, so I will attempt to capture at least some of who you are. You turned eleven, but truly it feels like you are twenty some days. I don't mean to suggest you are a child who likes to act too grown up for your age, but rather that  you possess great wisdom and maturity. You have an amazing ability to be mature, yet still maintain imaginative play and a light hearted nature. You are a very quiet child and prefer to keep your deep thoughts to yourself. You are exceptionally diligent in work and school and like nothing better than to have a list in which to check things off. 

This year you started to be a "mommy's helper" for several families. It's hard for me to let you go do this work when I feel like you do so much of it at home already, but you beg to go and are always such a help to those you serve. Often times, moms will compliment you in amazement on how well you folded all their laundry, did their dishes or mopped their floor. When I speak to my friends, they will often comment on how much easier their life would be if they "just had an Annabelle!" 

More than anything, I am proud to watch the progress in character you have made and strive for every day. Just the other day a friend was lamenting about the tantrums her child is currently struggling with. I responded by saying, "You should have seen the tantrums Annabelle used to throw. They were epic!" The friend was aghast, "Annabelle!!! No! She's so calm and composed!" I wish I could say this was due to some magical parenting trick, but it is mostly due to your hard work and determination to be a holy and Godly woman. I have literally watched you want to lose your self control and go flying off the wall with emotion, and then slowly gather yourself, take a breath and choose the better road. I have watched you pick up your sister's clothes for the millionth time and want to scream in annoyance, but gather your patience and act in kindness instead. I watch you everyday treat Miriam with the sweetest and most loving kindness as if she were the most precious child on earth. I watch you in mass, almost daily, with your book full of devotional prayers as you reverently and consistently try to grow closer to Our Lord. I watch you in complete awe and wonder what I ever did to deserve a daughter like you. You are incredibly beautiful on the inside and out. 

I look forward to watching you grow and change in these coming years of adolescents. I hope and pray to be an example to you of a Godly woman. I love you, Annabelle and am so proud to be your mother. 

Sarah Turns 6!

 "Mommy, do I have a book like the other kids? The kind you wrote in when I was a baby"

"No sweetie. By the time you were born, I didn't have much time to write in those books anymore. I'm so sorry."

"It's ok mommy. I love you. You're the best mommy in the world."

Conversations like this happen on a daily basis with you, my Sarah. You live up to your baby given nickname every single day. You are SUNSHINE on the darkest days. Your smile and contagious belly giggles brighten the whole family. You are constantly at my side, asking how you can help me, climbing on my lap and asking to read stories. You are naturally extraverted and are always looking for the next person to play with or the next conversation to be had.

One of the most fun things to do is watch you interact in a group of kids your age. You are a natural leader and extremely social. You will ask any kid to play with you and come up with the greatest games. You are one of those rare people in life that can make each individual person around you feel special and loved and amazing. You are always willing to put yourself and your desires to the side to maintain peace in a social situation. Being able to balance this while also leading a crowd is quite something to behold in a six year old child.

This is your first year of homeschooling and you are an amazing student. Most days you come to the table with great eagerness and maintain a positive attitude even when mommy has to help other children in the middle of your math lesson. You aren't reading yet, but your acute memory and sharp mind let us know that it's just a matter of time before the letters click and you are soaring through books. You often ask to "do school" on weekends. I never thought I would have to tell a child, "No honey. You can't do school today."

If mommy or daddy are running an errand you always want to tag along. Even if you are the only one going, you quickly throw on your shoes and race to the car. You talk non-stop to wherever we are going, don't stop the whole time we are there, and continue talking the whole way home. You often have deep thoughts and want to ask questions about Jesus or the way the world works. You are desperate to understand what your older siblings are doing or learning or working on. You get along with them well and look up to each of them in different ways. While you are trying to keep up with the older three, Miriam tries to keep up with you. You love her very much and play with her often. You can often be seen carrying her around as if she is a baby. She's almost as big as you and to watch you walk around with her as she lays her head on your shoulder is quite the funny site.

If I did have time to write in a baby book, this is what I would say: I would tell you that no amount of words written could capture the blessing you have been to me. I would write about how your smile and kind heart are exactly what this broken world needs. You are caring and kind and generous and bring smile and laughter to everyone around you. I would tell you how incredibly proud and unworthy I am to be your mother and how much joy I have watching you grow and change every day. I'm sorry their is no baby book for you, my fourth child, but know that I love you with every fiber of my being.

Time and Space

 It was a bright June day when I started noticing a peculiar habit of Juliana's. Every morning after breakfast, she would run out the front door and sit in the front yard, seemingly doing nothing but staring at the grass. This day was maybe the fifth day in a row she had done it, and as I stood at the window I watched her peaceful, dainty hands stroke the blades of grass. 

The night before my observation, Juliana had lost her earrings for what seemed like the thousandth time. They were the second pair we had to buy her because she had lost the first. She had to use her small amount of allowance to pay for them, and when they went missing she was naturally devastated.  Tears rolled down her cheek as she searched everywhere for the tiny silver hoops that had just arrived the previous day. We asked for St. Anthony's help, but eventually decided it was time for bed before finding them.

The next morning, when Juliana decided to come in from her new morning grass staring ritual, I asked if she wanted to go check eggs with me. As I grasped her delicate hand in mine and stepped onto the back porch, I spotted her tiny earrings laying on the concrete! What a terribly strange place for earrings to be! Great excitement and relief came from Juliana as she quickly snatched them up and held them tightly in her hand. 

"You should thank God and St. Anthony for helping us find those!" I told her.

"I already did", she replied matter of factly.

Surprised, I inquired further. "You thanked them, just now, that quickly?" 

"No, I thanked them when I was in the front yard this morning saying my prayers."

I tried to bring clarity to the situation by asking her if she thanked God for helping before the earrings were found, and she replied that she had. She couldn't seem to understand what was strange about this. I tried to press further, my mind trying to grasp what was going on in my seven year old's spiritual life.  

"What else did you tell God when you were praying?"  

Juliana shrank back from me, her eyes lowered and her voice became quiet and shy, "I don't like to tell people what I pray. I think it's just supposed to be between me and God."

I respected her privacy and grabbed her hand to head towards the chicken coop. After about five paces, she stopped suddenly. "Mommy, I don't really pray to God. I more like talk to God and ask Him questions. I ask Him what He is like and how His ways are and then I try to hear what He says. I only really pray, like ask for things, at church."

I was obviously very shocked to hear my seven year old basically describe contemplative prayer in her own sweet way that day. 

In days since, I have thought a lot about our conversation. I have mostly thought about the gift that time and space is for little children (and maybe big ones too!). If Juliana had been hauled off on a school bus that morning, if she had had an ipad to grab or a daycare to get to, she wouldn't have had the space or the quiet to run into the front yard, stare at the grass and contemplate His ways. It has given me a renewed sense of gratitude for the gift of homeschooling. It renews my firm belief that staying home with your children to witness and be a part of these little moments is worth more than all the money  or earthly prestige in the world.