7 Quick Takes: Sophism Edition

And, no, I don’t mean “sophism” as in “a specious argument for displaying ingenuity in reasoning or for deceiving someone” (thanks, Dictionary.com). I mean “Sophism” (capital S), as in brilliant things Sophia said this past week that display some measure of ingenuity, absolutely no reasoning, and which are either so sweet they make you coo or are otherwise capable of making a grown woman (me) snort (literally snort) with laughter! 

-1-

“Mama, thank you for making such a lovely breakfast for us. I love it.”

For this Sophism, I’d like to offer a shout out to Father Badger. Thank you, Father! Oh, and to my incredible husband who tells me every day! xo Love you, Honey. Either way, let us be agreed that positive examples are the building blocks of sweet children and happy mamas.

-2-

“Mama, you’re the wife. So, Daddy, that means you’re…the man!”

For the record, she’s been a flower girl in two weddings in the past year, during which ceremonies, she heard the couple proclaimed “man and wife.” Incidentally, despite being arguably far more conservative in our views of marriage than either of the couples in question, Brian and I used “husband and wife” as the phrase in our wedding—although, we were announced as Mr. & Mrs. Brian Hudson immediately thereafter!

I promise, it certainly didn’t come from this.

-3-

“Mama, when I’m bigger and I get married, can you get me a husband?”

I believe an explanation on the basics of courtship may be necessary somewhere down the road.

-4-

“Daddy, don’t eat me! Don’t eat me!” (Daddy assures Sophia that he will not be ingesting her this evening.) “But, I’m a bit tasty. You’re going to eat me at some point!”

The two favorite games of my children right now:

1. 
   
   Sheep shearing. After going to the annual sheep shearing event at one of our local parks, the children have gone bonkers for shearing! So, in order to live out their fantasy of being sheep shearers (or maybe they want to be the sheep; who knows?), we all take turns wrapping ourselves up in a boucle blanket which is then unwound—oh, excuse me shorn by the other members of the family.
2. 
   
   Nom nom. In which one of the children “nom noms” another family member who is meant to cry in giggling protest, “Don’t eat me! Don’t eat me!” Incidentally, my husband was innocently giving Sophia a bath when the above cry of protest began. So, maybe we need an explanation of the basics of gastronomy, as well.

-5-

“James, be quiet. I’m talking to God.”

We’ve been praying with Sophia since she was in utero, but only recently has she shown a  consistent desire to pray even without Daddy or Mama’s assistance or attention. She’s truly starting to develop her own relationship with Jesus, and it is so incredible to witness her love for Him!

-6-

“Excuse me! Mama. Mama! Mama, excuse me. Ex-CUSE me!” (“Yes, Sophia?”) “I love you.”

(Well, gorsh.) I love you, too, Sweetie.

-7-

And finally, I just wanted to mention two ways that I preserve these and other irreplaceable moments which are (unbelievably) too easily forgotten in the hurly-burly hourglass of life.

1. 
   
   Journals. I keep one journal for each of my children. It begins with the story of his or her birth and contains dated entries to record holidays, birthdays, and ordinary moments that I want to hold onto and recall in years to come. Neither of my children knows that I keep these, yet. I look forward to the day when I will be able to sit down and share with them my memories, thoughts, and prayers as they were in the days of their childhood.
   
   (Incidentally, I gleaned this idea from the fictional protagonist of Elizabeth Prentiss’ Stepping Heavenward, who did the same thing for her children. In a truly touching passage, she is able to share memories from the journal of a deceased son with his living siblings, many of whom were too young to remember him when he died.)
   
2. 
   
   Birthday letters. Every year on the eve of our children’s birthdays, Brian and I sit down and pen a letter to the birthday boy or girl. When all the festivities are done the next evening, we take a few precious minutes alone with our sweet child to read them their letter, which contains our thoughts and memories of the past year and our hopes and prayers for the year to come. When our children are grown, I plan to give them their letters to take with them, a reminder of all that we, their parents, wished for them, a record of our love at every age.

Blessings and grace for the end of your week.