Dream a Little Dream.

Sometimes I swear Bella lives in her own imaginary place away from the rest of us. A place full of princesses, and castles, and music, and color. A place that she is always royalty or a beautiful ballerina. Sometimes I wish I could go there with her. But what is it about being an adult that hinders you from being able to really let go and escape to that beautiful imaginary place that most of us had as children? So, now I am content to watch her play and dream and live in a world full of magical things that only she can see. I want to be the protector of that wonderful world and keep the real world away. I want to prevent anyone from stifling that wondrous creativity that she carries with her always. 

I love that almost everything she touches instantly becomes something else, something more wonderful in her eyes. I love that she has imaginary friends that go everywhere with her and keep her safe. I love that in her world, all words can be made into songs. I love that to her, anything is a stage and anytime is a good time to dance. I hope she never ever stops believing in those things and never forgets that the whole world is her stage, and I, her ever captivated audience.   

Now I Lay Me. . .

About 3 or 4 months ago, Bella got really in to saying her own prayers at bedtime, instead of folding her hands quietly while I led prayer. And while I loved sneaking peaks of her lying there with her hands folded and her eyes shut tight, I love listening to her say her own prayers so much more. The reason may not be what you think. Of course her simply saying "Now I lay me down to sleep" would be cute enough, but what really makes her prayers so special, so unique, and so. . .well, so BELLA, is that she sings them! Not only does she sing them, but she sings her own original prayers. She introduces each one of them as if it were a song on the radio, "And  now for ____" and then she launches in to the most wonderful prayers ever. Of course she prays for the usual: mommy, daddy, brother, etc, but the most magnificent things are the most unusual things she feels in her heart to pray about. There have been songs about trees, friends, our dog. The list is long, but my personal favorite prayer song of her's was "The Prayer to Jesus' Feet." 

No kidding. 

After a very proud introduction, she went on to sing the most hilariously sentimental prayer song to the Almighty's Feet. 

I can't remember most of it, but it went a little like this (insert completely random melody here) Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord to Jesus' feet. They are so pretty. And I love you. . . .etc., etc. A lyrical masterpiece, really. 

It was truly everything I had not to bust out laughing! How could I laugh though, when she was so very seriously pouring her heart and soul into her song to Jesus' feet?

Lately, she doesn't sing her prayers as much anymore, but she does still say her own most of the time. Sometimes they make sense. More often than not, they don't. They are just completely random ramblings of whatever thoughts pop into her head in that very moment.  Sometimes I am tempted to reign her in, to put her on the "right" track with her prayers. But I fight the urge. Because isn't that what praying to our Father is supposed to be? Speaking from our hearts' no matter how incoherent it may seem to us? God knows our heart; he knows what we are trying to say.  The beauty is found in knowing that we can say anything, anything at all, to Him and He hears us. He listens. Whether it be about our troubles, our joys, or even about Jesus' pretty feet. God wants to hear everything we have to say. And while I don't sing my own prayers, my little girl has taught me so much about the beauty and art of prayer.

Big Wheels Keep On Turning!

As of February 3, 2009 my little Princess is a bike rider. 

I picked her up from school that day, and she and her teachers were beaming! "Guess what?" they ask me.

 "What?" 

Dramatic pause. . . . 

At this point I'm positive she has done something absolutely amazing-taught the class to read,written her name in cursive,  solved world hunger. . . 

"BELLA LEARNED TO PEDAL!"

Who needs reading?! My kid can finally pedal!!! 

I jump around the class like a maniac, hug her and kiss her, tell her over and over that I am so proud of her. You know, the usual proud mommy stuff. I have been trying to teach her since last summer with absolutely no success; she goes to preschool for one day and comes home knowing how to do it! Maybe they aren't over charging us. . .

Like most things requiring effort and energy,  the Princess has been completely uninterested in learning to pedal a bike. I don't know why I wasn't more prepared for her total lack of interest, she didn't crawl until she was 11 months old and didn't walk until she was 17 months old. No thats not a typo, it was really 17. She was perfectly happy having her fat little self toted around on my hip forever! She's simply never been a big fan of cardio, so I'm not sure why I expected her to be excited about learning to ride a bike. But that was all in the past. 

Or so we thought.

That night when daddy got home, we told him all about the monumental day. Then Mommy, Daddy, the Princess, and even Aunt Mary all loaded into the car for a trip to Wal-Mart to get a NEW BIKE!!! After some deliberation, we decided to go with the Barbie big wheel. Why not start small, then work our way up to the BMX. She did just learn.

So after getting home and helping Daddy assemble her new prize, we all set off. The plan was for us all to take a nice long stroll around the block-grown ups walking, Princess pedaling diligently alongside us. That was the plan. Since when does anything ever go according to the plan? It took us about 10 minutes to get as far as the next driveway, 40 feet away! This wasn't bike riding! I didn't understand! Her teachers had said, "She learned to RIDE a bike today" not "she learned to pedal twice then sit on a bike today." What had happened ?? 

But she wouldn't give up. So for the next 30 minutes Daddy, Aunt Mary, and I coaxed and encouraged her to keep trying while we quietly played a game of  "I bet I could do _______ before she gets back home." Example, I bet I could run a mile backwards and on one leg before she pedaled the 40 feet it would take to get back to our driveway. It was slow going to say the least.  But then, all of a sudden, it clicked!! She started pedaling (consistently) and didn't stop! The freedom of the open road, the wind blowing through her hair, she was unstoppable! We were all so proud. It was then that I realized, pedaling, just like everything else in her life, was something she had to do in her own time. She has never been one to be forced into anything, and this was to be no different. Why had I been so adamant about her learning before she was really ready? Because everyone else's child was ahead of her when it came to this? I won't make that mistake again.

 Through the simple act of her learning to ride her bike, she taught me that it is not my job as her mommy to force things upon her. It's my job as her mommy to point her in the right direction, and to be the gentle guidance she needs to learn and discover things on her own. She is her own person, smart and able, capable of anything, when and if she's ready. 

Big Girls Don't Cry

Last Thursday, my little Princess started pre-school for the first time. Again.

A little over a year ago, we tried it, but it was awful so we quit, and we don't really like to count it as her first school experience. She would wake up on school mornings with some sort of weird sixth sense, already crying and begging me not to take her! It was terrible.

This time though it has been great! When we went to visit, she walked right in like she had been there forever, she wasn't shy or scared in the least. We knew we had found "the one." Her teachers are so sweet and she has already made lots of new friends; although she can't tell me a single one of their names.

I had a friend ask me if I was sad about her starting school, and my honest answer was no. I'm really not. (And not just bc its one less kid in my house or bc I am finally getting a much needed break from the little monster, I mean Princess). I might have thought about being sad or nervous for a minute or two. After all, this is my shy, scared baby, and I just threw her into an unknown world. It had to be really scary for her.

Any sadness I might have had though,  was erased at pick up on her first day. I got out of my car to see her running blissfully around the playground with her friends, grinning from ear to ear, laughing out loud, and having the time of her life. I knew we had made the right choice. Who could be sad about that?

31 Flavors of Jesus

Kind of a random thought I know, but have you ever noticed all the different "varieties of Jesus"?

Sitting in church on Sunday, I started thinking about it. Visit one church and you will enjoy oyster cracker Jesus. Another, and you will partake in wafer Jesus.  I wonder what makes churches chose the flavor they do. Are they just walking through the cracker aisle at Kroger one day, spot some tasty looking treats, and think "That's it!! That will be our Jesus!"? Or is it a matter of price? Is one type of Jesus more of a bargain than another? I just wonder these things.

And as far as the drinks go, WINE people!! WINE!! He turned water into wine, not Welch's grape juice. 

In my opinion, you should not be able to buy Jesus's flesh and blood at the grocery store. It should have to be purchased from a special Jesus store. 

Just my thoughts on the matter.