And then the day came
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
Anaïs Nin (1907-1977)
My little buds are taking each of their own risks this week.
Wonderful Beautiful Blooming
Max is learning the use of his body (turning from back to tummy and tummy to back, grabbing his feet, bringing things to his mouth) and it is simultaneously amazing and humbling. Amazing that in three short months he transformed from a very petite newborn to a pudgy infant. Amazing, the joy grabbing ones own foot can bring. Amazing, his fierce determination to manipulate a toy or hand into his mouth. I am humbled by his fierce determination to explore be it his hands, feet, or rattle. I am humbled by his pure joy. I am humbled by God’s perfection. I am humbled to provide Max with the perfect food to enable him to thrive.
Amelia is blossoming into a little girl all her own. Her sheer wit and intelligence astound me. Her empathy and compassion make my throat tighten with pride. Still wrapping my mind around the conversations I have with her, at only 2 years of age. Complex thoughts, much more complex than I imagined. And her imagination, surprised is an understatement.
My little buds are blossoming, and though this is the natural progression of childhood, I can’t help but feel a little sad. Sad and excited. It would be too painful to hold on baby-hood forever. We are blossoming in this season of life. It feels good to stretch, but hurts a little too. This is the risk of life, if you hold on too tight, you never have the space to bloom.