Little Things

"At school, we learned about Adam and Eve," my four-year-old tells me from his seat in the back of the car. This is a relief to me because last year, when I first told him that Bible story one night at bedtime, he liked it so much that he asked me to repeat it the next night. "Tell me again about Adam and Steve. I love those guys!" So the fact that they're teaching the correct names and genders at school and that he's picking up on them is promising.

"We learned that Adam had to name all of the animals. THAT was a big job," he tells me, obviously appreciating the magnitude of Adam's endeavor.

Yes, indeedy. That was a big job, and one that God knew better than to give to someone like me, who becomes overwhelmed at the outset of mind-numbingly enormous tasks. I'm afraid that that's due to both my ADHD tendencies and my propensity to be something other than detail-oriented.

I'm also a tiny bit concerned that Emily has inherited the inclination to skim over minutiae from me. One day last year, I told her to read down her list of spelling words and use them in a sentence, since she'd already spelled them correctly.

"Cement..." she read.

"Um, no, that's 'smart,'" I corrected.

"Cement, smart, whatever. It doesn't matter."

Of course it doesn't. No need to get bogged down in useless details, like the difference between man-made concrete mix and God-given intelligence.

But I'm working on it (getting to the details, that is), because I've learned that when one doesn't notice details, one can't appreciate the beauty woven into the small things that make up the big things in our lives. And certainly, I want to remember every little detail of this sweet, happy baby we've been blessed with. Because I realize now that I'll blink and this baby person will be a preschooler and I'm afraid I'll turn around again and he'll be off to college with his siblings. This time, I'm determined to remember every little noise, every baby expression, every nuance of who Ethan is right now.

"Mommy, can we keep having babies and we'll have a lot of kids?" Jackson asked me several days ago. Hmmm...that would be one solution to missing my babies--always having one around!

"Mom, you had the best baby," Emily tells me quietly, as we both gaze happily at Ethan. Maybe having them around to notice the little things with me is all I need.