On First Sentences and Late Night Rescue Missions

Isn't amazing how much a child changes your life? I can't even remember what life was like before I had the children. I marvel that the house ever got dirty and I don't know what we did with all of our free time. I most certainly wouldn't have expected that things would effect me the way they do when it comes to the two of them.

Example: Laney had just taken a good nap at Mom's yesterday. I think I've expressed (quite recently, in fact) that Laney is at her very best right after her nap before Marley wakes up and she has to start competing for attention. She was playing with a set of coasters my mom keeps around because all the grandchildren have played with them at one time or another. It's a set of four wooden coasters that fit inside a little wooden box. Now, it wouldn't be the most interesting toy to you and me. But to the under-two set it's a marvelous thing to sit and spend hours taking the coasters out of the box and putting them back in. Laney was engaging in just such activity when the box came apart. She stood up, handed it to me and proclaimed that it was "Broke." I put the pieces back together, but as it was in need of some pretty serious glue, I knew it wouldn't stay together. I gave it back to her and she "broke" it again. After a couple of times of this, she stood up, handed me the pieces and said, "Fis it, Mommy."

Wow. I can't even begin to describe the goosebumps I had from hearing her say those three words. I know. It's just three words, not a big deal, right? But it almost made me cry. Lately, most of Laney's conversation has been in one word exclamations. Take her to the beach and she will proclaim, "Wadder!" while looking at the ocean. Ask her what a cow says and she will reply, "Boooooooooooocow!" Every now and then she gets caught up saying, "No, mommy" over and over. But this--this was a real sentence. A command--but nevertheless. . . And it's not just that it was a sentence, it was relevant. It was the right thing to say at the right time. It was nothing short of amazing--just like everything about her.

It's always that way when it comes to them. I'm surprised by my feelings and that I feel them this intensely.

Marley has a blanket buddy (a small blanket with a stuffed animal head attached to it), named "Benny." Benny goes everywhere with us. Marley treasures this toy and will accept no substitutes. When I wash Benny, I have to keep Marley distracted to keep her from getting him out of the dryer before he's dry, etc. Well, Marley and Laney ended up going to Bible School at my former church (about 20 miles away) last night and (horrors!) Benny got left there.

My sister-in-law, (who took them to Bible School) called me as soon as she got home and asked me if I was sure Marley had taken Benny with her. That's a silly question. If she wasn't crying for Benny when she got to Bible School, she had Benny with her. Turns out, my sister-in-law left Benny at Bible School because she thought that it belonged to another child. So, Marley gets home from Bible School absolutely distraught.

Let me pause a minute to describe my range of emotions at this point. First, I was mad at my sister-in-law for not trusting Marley to know her favorite toy from someone else's. Second, I was so sad for Marley, who was crying as hard as she could and screaming over and over, "BENNNNNYYYY!" Underneath it all, I was just a little bit happy to be the one Marley was running to for comfort. Last but not least, I was worried. I was worried that we might not be able to find Benny. I was worried that Benny might have gone home with another child. I was worried that if Marley tried to make it through the night without him, at 3:00 a.m. we'd be up trying to explain his whereabouts to a hysterical two-year-old. (Two-year-olds CAN be rational sometimes, but at 3:00 in the morning I'm not rational enough to deal with one.)

This emotional roller coaster lasts about five minutes, until Lewis says he thinks we should go and get Benny back. MY HERO! I called the pastor of the church, who went over to the church nursery, found Benny and called me to tell me so. We then quick-changed the girls into their pajamas, loaded them in the car and proceeded to rescue Benny.

Of course, Marley was fast asleep by the time we got there. But there was comfort in nudging her awake just long enough to put Benny back in her arms, safe and sound.

I guess that's a lot of what being a parent is about. I find myself glad to be worried, mostly because what I have to worry over is so precious. After all the trouble we went to (and all the emotions) , I can say I'm glad all of it happened, because it was so satisfying to "Fis it" for her.