Will Curlyjo ever learn to tell time?
Will Tiny Love learn to channel her persistence into something other than begging for more snacks that include sugar?
Will I ever convince them that their room should not look like an episode of "Hoarders?"
Am I doing enough?
Are they doing enough?
And then, the moments come. The ones I need to keep me going, keep me focused, and keep me from throwing rocks at innocent trees.
Last week they were told to come to church Wednesday night dressed as what they wanted to be when they grew up. They both decided they wanted to dress up as "Moms." I was infinitely proud to have the only two girls in the crowd who dressed up as mothers. Because that is what the Women's Movement is all about, people...choice. Not eliminating choice, but allowing it. It is honorable to want to be a mother. It is desirable, noble, and responsible. Now, let it be known that Tiny Love also wants to be a veterinarian, teacher (public and home), and a doctor. Curlyjo wants to be a doctor just so she can "look at strep throat germs under the microscope, and then retire." Obviously, in the grand scheme of things, they don't know what they want to be. But they know that they have a choice.
Another shining moment came today.
Curlyjo has struck a deal with the Husband that an 'A' on a test will earn her a quarter in the jar. She made a sign that proves such.
If 'A' = 25 cents
Then A + A = 50 cents
What time is it?
I am calling this an early algebra skill and depending on the invention of the digital clock to save her from a lifetime of tardiness. We must look for our moments, and when we find them, we must hold onto them for dear life. For the trees.