The Little Things

I read somewhere that parents do not create children, children create parents. I think that’s true in a lot of ways because no matter how many of your siblings or cousins or neighbors you helped “raise”, until they are completely and totally your responsibility, you never get the full impact.


It’s also usually the little things you tend to remember most. Everybody remembers the day they were born, their first day at school, baptism, graduations, and those type things, but I’d be willing to be that when you are actively thinking about them, those “monumental moments” usually pale in comparison to some of the little thing they did – at least memory-wise.

The way Amy used to slide down the steps on her butt when she was about 2.

Christopher crawling up into a friend’s lap, who happened to be very “endowed” and had a low cut blouse on, and asked her what that was, pointing to her low cut blouse, and she said “My cleavage”. He replied, “Oh, boobies”

Douglas not being satisfied when we were driving in the rain until I would hit a big enough puddle to cover the entire car.

Sarah being afraid of going through car washes when she was a baby.

The way Amy always asked for a cookie, and when I said okay, she would hold up two fingers and say, “Twofums”

After following Douglas around as he sold magazines for school, Michael, at 5, decided he could do it too and walked around the neighborhood with a coffee can collecting pennies. We made him put them in the collection plate at church.

Christopher at 2, dressed from head to toe in a green felt dinosaur outfit, parading through the mall.

Amy turning out to probably be the best baseball player, (okay, so she played softball, but she was better than either of the boys).

When Sarah gives a hug, she just sort of lays against you and lets you hug away. She always has.

Michael, losing a helium balloon out the car window at 5 and not understanding why we couldn’t just go back and get it.

Christopher walking up the street, after he had fallen off his bike, holding his broken arm out to the side. It looked like he had two elbows, but he was smiling and looked so proud.

Sharing fried egg sandwiches with Sarah and Christopher when they were little, while we watched old westerns on TV.

Douglas taking off on his bike to go visit and friend and coming back almost immediately with one of his toenails almost completely ripped off. He was barefoot and dragged his foot on the street.

Having to put Amy on a plane in Charleston to fly by herself to California when she was scared and crying.

Christopher’s pacifier. He called it his baby, and it was with him constantly for 2 and half years. We were about to panic because we couldn’t find a way to get him to stop using it, then Sue hit on the idea around Christmas that when we left milk and cookies for Santa, he should leave his baby for Rudolph. It worked. He only mentioned it one other time, shortly after Christmas when he said with a pouty bottom lip he said, “Rudolph took my baby!”

And there are more and more special little memories that keep them all so very close to me. I’m not a very demonstrative person when it comes to faith, but when it comes to my kids I can say with all certainty, I have been blessed!