I've been thinking...

I haven't written in a bit, and while not much has happened-- except Truman has started on solid food
-- but I've been thinking a lot about different things. I've especially been thinking about the relationship between parents and kids.

When I graduated from high school, my dad spoke at the ceremony, and he quoted "I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack.
That song still makes me cry because I can hear my dad in it. My dad used to tell me he loved me more than he could describe, more than I loved him, more than I could ever know until I had kids of my own. He said he loved me so much it physically hurt. Last night I was sitting watching Andrew dish up his own yogurt, and then some for Evie, and I was listening to them have one of their cute sibling conversations, I knew (not for the first time) what my dad meant.

Since that graduation I have seen my dad as pushing me out the door to go and experience, but with his heart breaking just a little because he knows I won't really ever be coming back. I am watching my kids grow up so quickly and I want to keep them and hold them and love them forever like I do now, but I also want to see them learn and grow and become amazing adults and have amazing experiences.

I want everything for them, and every moment feels so filled with potential-- I need to fill them with love and teaching and the Spirit so their lives will be full with not a moment wasted. Sometimes I have these great moments where I'm playing "fire-guy" or cuddling or having deep conversations with my kids with no distractions and I am so content. But lots of days I regret all the in-between time when we just took care of business and took an hour getting dressed to go outside and enjoy the beautiful day only to have to come back in twenty minutes later. I ache thinking of how much I want for them and how many moments feel wasted with the mundane, or worse, with my worrying over lesser things or being too tired, lazy or grouchy.

Looking back on my childhood I think things will probably still turn out. I'm sure most of my days were boring, sit-around-doing-nothing-and-not-in-a-good-way kind of days, but all I remember are the little amazing moments in between all that. I still look up to and love my dad more than I can describe. I still adore my mom with that affection reserved only for our mothers-- and now that I'm a mom myself, my awe of her and my realization of what a brat I was grow daily (actually, the realization comes from adulthood a lot more than motherhood-- I'm not trying to call my kids brats here, though I'll admit they can be).

That bond between parents and kids is pretty amazing. I think maybe part of why we have families is to understand just a bit more of what Heavenly Father feels for us. I guess all I'm trying to say is-- This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for my family.