Life without Pictures
I'm reading the book "936 Pennies Discovering the Joy of Intentional Parenting" right now. This is what is causing this deeper introspection into the world of intentionality. I am loving the book and am thinking it, along with a jar of 936 pennies may be my new baby gift to people!! You can find out more about the book when I write my review, which should be in just a few days. Only two chapters left.
So this morning, the challenge was to see life and make memories and preserve the memories with words rather than pictures, how sometimes we get so caught up in photographing the moment that we miss the moment.
The blocks are scattered on the floor, remnants from failing to pick up the toys the evening before. The paper lay spread out at my feet. On the floor was a little girl, still dressed in her pajamas, the ones from Aunt Hannah. She sat there studiously studying her Curious George book. It's one she has seen many, many times before, but it struck me this morning how she sits there and takes the pages one at a time, looking at them as though she has never seen the book before. Each page seems to be a fresh one, just waiting to be studied. In truth, some of those stories she could tell you about simply based on the pictures, but this morning she just sat there quietly looking at the pictures, absorbed in the world of Curious George and his mischievous misdeeds.
And now, an hour and a half later, she sits on the couch, just sitting there holding the cd case of Little Bear. On the stereo, Little Bear is being read to her and she seems to pay as close attention now as she did the first time she heard the stories, about three weeks ago. I've lost count of the number of times she has listened to it.
There's something about a child's way of looking at repetition in a fresh way. What about us? I am easily dissatisfied if things are repeated too many times. It's a rare book that I read more than once and I can probably count on one hand the books I've read more than twice. It's not that I don't think there are books worth rereading, there are, many of them, but life comes along and promises the next best and better thing and so I move on, always grabbing, always leaning out to see what's new, rather than sitting down and pondering for the second, third, or even tenth time and gleaning new things out of the old.
This week has been good for memories. It's spring and so it's full of firsts. The first stop at a park, the first picnic, the first evening out cleaning up the yard, the first walk together as a family. It makes this heart of mine so happy to spend time together as a family, soaking up the beautiful spring evenings before the mosquitoes try to chase us indoors as dusk settles. And the sleep after spending the evening outside is so sweet and deep.
And the little man? He's plumping up as fast as you please, but he's so lazy and laid back. He makes me laugh. He will not roll over, but he doesn't always want to sit either. He twists over onto his stomach and then waves his arms and flaps his legs. (I'm pretty sure if I put him in a pool, he would swim like a fish for the way he flails :), but trust me, I have no intention of trying. ) He wants to move, but doesn't fully understand the mechanics of crawling and he shows no interest in rolling. Yet, in the middle of the night he cries out. I go to investigate him and have to rescue him from his stomach where he has rolled to in the middle of the night. Tell me, dear boy, you can roll over in the middle of the night without thought, but you cannot do it in the daytime when the toys beckon you to reach out and roll and get them? But his big blue eyes and his jolly little smile help to make up for the deficit and this mama heart tries not to worry that he is slow because he won't roll over on a regular basis.
And now the story is done and the little boy is awake and life is set to move forward into another day. A day that we will spend as a family and the little girl will get to slide on a slide and swing on a swing, Lord willing. The sun is shining and the day is before us, let us all go make memories.
So this morning, the challenge was to see life and make memories and preserve the memories with words rather than pictures, how sometimes we get so caught up in photographing the moment that we miss the moment.
The blocks are scattered on the floor, remnants from failing to pick up the toys the evening before. The paper lay spread out at my feet. On the floor was a little girl, still dressed in her pajamas, the ones from Aunt Hannah. She sat there studiously studying her Curious George book. It's one she has seen many, many times before, but it struck me this morning how she sits there and takes the pages one at a time, looking at them as though she has never seen the book before. Each page seems to be a fresh one, just waiting to be studied. In truth, some of those stories she could tell you about simply based on the pictures, but this morning she just sat there quietly looking at the pictures, absorbed in the world of Curious George and his mischievous misdeeds.
And now, an hour and a half later, she sits on the couch, just sitting there holding the cd case of Little Bear. On the stereo, Little Bear is being read to her and she seems to pay as close attention now as she did the first time she heard the stories, about three weeks ago. I've lost count of the number of times she has listened to it.
There's something about a child's way of looking at repetition in a fresh way. What about us? I am easily dissatisfied if things are repeated too many times. It's a rare book that I read more than once and I can probably count on one hand the books I've read more than twice. It's not that I don't think there are books worth rereading, there are, many of them, but life comes along and promises the next best and better thing and so I move on, always grabbing, always leaning out to see what's new, rather than sitting down and pondering for the second, third, or even tenth time and gleaning new things out of the old.
This week has been good for memories. It's spring and so it's full of firsts. The first stop at a park, the first picnic, the first evening out cleaning up the yard, the first walk together as a family. It makes this heart of mine so happy to spend time together as a family, soaking up the beautiful spring evenings before the mosquitoes try to chase us indoors as dusk settles. And the sleep after spending the evening outside is so sweet and deep.
And the little man? He's plumping up as fast as you please, but he's so lazy and laid back. He makes me laugh. He will not roll over, but he doesn't always want to sit either. He twists over onto his stomach and then waves his arms and flaps his legs. (I'm pretty sure if I put him in a pool, he would swim like a fish for the way he flails :), but trust me, I have no intention of trying. ) He wants to move, but doesn't fully understand the mechanics of crawling and he shows no interest in rolling. Yet, in the middle of the night he cries out. I go to investigate him and have to rescue him from his stomach where he has rolled to in the middle of the night. Tell me, dear boy, you can roll over in the middle of the night without thought, but you cannot do it in the daytime when the toys beckon you to reach out and roll and get them? But his big blue eyes and his jolly little smile help to make up for the deficit and this mama heart tries not to worry that he is slow because he won't roll over on a regular basis.
And now the story is done and the little boy is awake and life is set to move forward into another day. A day that we will spend as a family and the little girl will get to slide on a slide and swing on a swing, Lord willing. The sun is shining and the day is before us, let us all go make memories.
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