“You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.” – Desmond Tutu
A friend of mine commented that my personal blog doesn’t seem to have a whole lot of photos to go with stories of my kids. It’s true. Kind of a conscious decision on my part to not put them up on display, I guess.
I mean…they do some really cute things, like the other day, I was putting something in the laundry sorter and I heard a step behind me which I assumed was my husband’s. So I say, to continue a discussion we had earlier, “Do you think someone scared of a lot of things is wimpy or just has an overactive imagination?” And I hear a “Huh?” from my son.
I could go on and on and on.
But toddler-cute is different than teen-cute. Somehow, it feels invasive of their privacy to quote them to strangers. Thus I have become more circumspect about them.
That said, here is a photo and account I would like to share with anyone who will care to listen. Because as proud as I am of my writings or achievements from my halcyon days and not-so-halcyon days, what I am most proud of is this:
This family photo was taken November first. The warm sheen comes from the setting sun and the happy occasion.
That day, my son (who just turned 12) was ordained a deacon in our LDS church ward (congregation). Just look at how he is soon going to surpass us (okay, me) in height. I took him shopping for shoes the other day yet again; he outgrows them every two months. Big shoes to match his big heart.
That day, my little one in the middle pouted because I told her to please change back into her dress for a family picture. I could just kiss her all day; that’s her privilege as the youngest. And she knows it.
That day, my oldest daughter received her Young Women (church) medallion [young women ages 12-18 work on goals and projects in various areas of focus to receive this recognition]. She is down-to-earth, works hard but enjoys life, and tries to do the right thing. How did she get this way at 14? I sure wasn’t at that age.
That day – story of our life – my husband watched patiently while I flitted around like a butterfly. He knows better than to catch me in his fist. He gives generously and I bask in the warmth of his love and acceptance.
Pardon my gushing but my heart is full.
Editor’s note: Jewel is an LDS wife, mother and freelance journalist who also enjoys blogging.
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