Let them be Little

It's gotten a bit cloudy today, but I can't complain. The weather has been GORGEOUS the last few days and we have been trying to follow Sheryl Crow's counsel to "soak up the sun." We have been going for a lot of walks, which the girls love. Here is another one of Allie's fantastic outfits: swimsuit (typical) with swim bottoms over the top (not typical), completed with her new Easter shoes. Lovely. She is posing with her stroller and doll.


She and Kyla took turns pushing the doll in the stroller while I pushed the other one in the umbrella stroller. Kyla thought it was way too much fun and we went around in circles on our street for about half an hour before I took charge and announced that we would walk all the way around the neighborhood!


As you may have guessed, Allie spent more than her fair share of time riding in the stroller pushed by me. I thought this was especially clever. She got to have all of the fun, but had to do none of the work (by the way, for those of you who commented on my carrying Allie up the mountain in the backpack instead of Kyla, I thought I'd clarify. I had Kyla on the way down in the crappy backpack, that puts all the pressure on your shoulders. I thought it would be a much better trade to take Allie in the better backpack, because they really can't be that much different in weight. I think I had the better end of the trade, even though I had the heavier girl!).

In other news, Jeff and I were forced to have a parenting moment last night. It was quite intense. The kids had just gotten out of their respective tubs/showers and were supposed to be drying themselves off with their own towels. I was outside talking on the phone (gotta love the great cell phone reception we get here in the basement) and Jeff came out holding our camera. He proceeded to show me some of the pictures one of our children had taken (I won't mention names, but it was a boy). There were pictures of all the kids naked, including close-ups of the unmentionable areas (don't worry--all pics have been deleted and will not be posted on my blog, even though I am private!). The child at fault was crying uncontrollably, and we told him we needed to talk to him, to which he responded, "I'm busted!" I don't think he knows what that means, but he was absolutely right.

We sat down with him and I asked him to tell me what was on the camera. He said, "Why do I have to tell you, you already know!" For some reason, looking at him feeling so guilty, I was struck with the strong impression that this will definitely not be the last time we have to talk about how we know that he has done something wrong. Suddenly, I felt like a parent, not just some wannabe mommy with three little kids. After much talking, I think we impressed on him that we weren't mad, and we understood that he was curious and that was okay. We told him again and again that we weren't mad at him, but needed him to know why this was such a serious thing. I think he got it, and was much repentant. We brought Allie in and explained to her why we keep our private parts covered and that no one has the right to touch them, EVER. I asked her if she knew why. She said, "because they might get germs on their hands." True. I tried not to laugh when I told her there were other reasons no one should ever touch her privates. She nodded her head in all seriousness, but I know she was dying to get the heck out of there. We all were.

After a while, the heaviness of the situation seemed to evaporate, and Kyla lightened the mood by pretending that she knew the answer to all our questions (I think "Kyla" probably is the answer to any question she could possibly have!). When I said my prayers, I had to remember, as I often do, to thank my Heavenly Father that my kids are still little. They still believe everything Jeff and I tell them. They are still so sweet and innocent, despite their growing curiosities about the world. And I want to keep them little for as long as I can. I'm not ready for heaviness that will no doubt follow us around all too soon.

So, today I'm celebrating childhood. The kind that evaporates all too quickly. I'm celebrated layering swimsuits and begging for walks in the stroller. I'm celebrating prayers from Allie whens he asks, "please help us have a great time in bed" (don't tell me you have never prayed for the same thing!). I'm also celebrating Kyla's love of everything Allie loves. At my mom's house last week she was in bed in the basement while Allie chanted upstairs, "W-I-L-D, Wildcats!" When I went down to take a shower, I heard Kyla chanting to herself, "Wildcats!," because anything Allie says is worth repeating. I am also remembering a time, a month or so ago, when Jeff was wowing us with his skills on Super Mario 3, and I commented, "he's jumping up to heaven" (for all you gamers, you know what I'm talking about. When you jump on a super bouncy thing and get to gather all the coins you can up in the clouds.). Allie, in all seriousness, said, "So that's what heaven looks like."

And now, as I'm sitting here looking at my three beautiful babies, I'm thinking she's probably right.