Sometimes my kids act like wild, rabid animals with each other.
They're mean and nasty. Stubborn. Selfish. Fighty. (And then there's me...)
Just this morning, Silas screamed, "You're a LOSER!" at Calvin.
Calvin lapses into the habit of annoying people just for the sake of being annoying.
Ruby can be a hitter.
I mean, I don't love it.
It's a battle around here, lots of days. We're trying hard to learn to use our words well, but it often feels like digging ditches, bending steel, baking a cake with no eggs or flour. It's taxing. Impossibly wearing. Maybe a little futile.
And I know they're conspiring.
It's almost never good (so to speak.)
And they become a little more like friends and a little less like sworn enemies.
Then I grab my camera, because I don't want to miss this.
I don't want to forget, and I don't want them to, either.
I want them to see me laughing and know I'm a big fan of being wild together.
I want them to dream up crazy schemes that probably won't end well...
...but I want them to figure it all out together.
This is some of the best magic of motherhood. It's not the parts where we schedule out the moments and everyone's faces are shiny-clean.
It's this. Right here.
This is a day for kissing life on the forehead.
PS - Ruby has a small battle wound from said adventuring. It did not end well. But you'll have that.