Our youngest child, Allison, never ceases to amaze me. I call her my free spirit. She hates being confined whether that be in the bars of her crib, the straps of her carseat, the pews at church or the walls of the house. Let her outside and she will run like a rabbit in every direction. I can barely get her pajamas off of her in the morning before she breaks free, smiling, running and screaming as her itty-bitty butt gets farther and farther away from me. She is something BIG stuck in a baby.
It's amazing to me, you know? How she can somehow be so different than her logical, analytical brother and her dramatic, girly, outgoing sister. Three completely different individuals raised in the same home. They are similar in other ways. Take one look at my three kids and you just might think Andy created clones (he jokes, survival of the fittest). People actually stop me in the store and say, "They must look like their father." Gotta love well-meaning strangers. All my kids love to be outside and seem to hate movie theaters (something about dark crowded rooms with ear shattering sound and larger than life pictures- I don't know). But they are three beautiful, unique children made by the crafty hand of God.
So I'm putting Ally to bed tonight and I'm squeezing the growing-up right out of her because I know it goes by so fast. I'm taking deep breaths of freckle-less skin and asking her silly, rhetorical questions like, "Do you know how much I love you?" And all the chaos of the day and the sacrifice we make as mothers melts away. Because it could never compare to the immeasurable blessings we have been given. That is what our children are, after all, blessings.
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