Tiny footsteps thumped through the house the other morning when the first snowfall of the year arrived. “MOM! It’s SNOWING!” she yelled from the kitchen. Mind you, I was still in bed. But I couldn’t help but jump out to join her, standing at the back door watching the blanket fall to the ground.
I forgot how magical it is to have a three-year-old at Christmas. When my last boy was three, we were in the thick of a lot of things with toddlers and having three young boys so close in age. I don’t remember much from that time because I was really just trying to survive. Our girl is bringing it back to me: the magic and wonder of the changing seasons and the beauty of a time like this one.
So this morning, when the snow was falling, I peaked out my door to ask Rosie if she saw the snow. I think I might have been more excited than she was, only because I love to see the joy on her face. She loves every bit of this time, squeezing as much joy out of every moment until it’s dry. It’s how she goes about life: fully and completely experiencing what she loves with unhindered joy. Such freedom.
Oh to be a child again, right?
Mine have been teaching me that everything is better than it seems. Really.
They just aren’t worried at all, you know? I get worried so easily. I’ll toss and turn in bed at night while my mind spins thinking about all the things. Often it will spin until I write down everything I’m thinking. The things I worry about never come to pass most of the time. The result is less joy, less freedom. Being an adult seemed better when I was 14 and dreaming about the future.
Today I am grateful for time and the ridiculous amounts of it I have been able to spend with my kids this year. More than ever and more than planned. Some days I don’t feel that way. Some days they drive me mad, either angry or crazy. Just thankful and wouldn’t have it any other way.
The snow is falling today, and I am just so happy to see it.