Learning from Dutch

Most of you probably know about our window scare.  Dutch fell halfway out of his second story window (above concrete) on Sunday, pushed the screen out and fell halfway (waist up) when we heard him scream and Jeff ran upstairs and grabbed him before he fell all the way out. It was awful, horrific–I was hysterical, he was hysterical. All in all it was a very good wake up call for us–to cherish every moment with our son, not take things for granted, realize–with a healthy fear of God–that everything can be gone in the blink of an eye.

Perhaps that’s why I’m trying to savor a little more the moments with Dutch. You see, I have been struggling in the area of mommyhood when it comes to Dutch.  He is a steel-willed child, and between our busy schedule, women’s ministry things, getting moved in, and just the stuff of life, I’ve had more than one moment where I’ve just felt like shaking his little self and saying, “Really?!  Really, do you have to contradict everything I say? Does everything have to be a battle?!”  And then of course the window-scare happened and though I still find myself having plenty wits-end moments (today at Bridgeport, where I had to carry both children in arms –Dutch throwing a fit over my shoulder and Heidi smashed in the front pack without making a peep– from the Container Store all the way to Bed Bath & Beyond), I can’t even imagine life without my boy.  He makes my life.  I kiss him a hundred times a day, on that soft part of his cheek right by his lips so I can smell his amazing little puppy breath. I still squeeze his buns everytime I pick him up (and think about how nice it will be when we’re down to only one in diapers!).  I love having conversations with him, listening to his amazing creativity as he plays make-believe around the house. Here are a few of my favorite Dutch thoughts of late:

(When I put on a dress for church).  “Mommy, what’s that you got on?”

“A dress, Dutch.”

“It’s pretty.”

(I smile) “Thank you, Dutch!”

“Mommy, you fancy!”  (heart melting!)

Ok, this one’s not so sweet, just odd:

(As I’m changing his diaper) “I like Papa!”  (I smile, so glad that my son loves my dad. Then he continues. “I like poop too!”

Unfortunately he continues to think that shouting “I eat poop for dinner!”  then laughing hysterically and saying, “That’s SO funny!” is the greatest thing in the world.  Oh dear.  Apparently he’s hit middle-school early.

Tonight his prayers, as silly and immature as they might seem, touched my heart.  As we lay in bed we started to pray and I asked him what he wanted to thank God for.  “Umm…” he thought. He had his toy van in his hand.  “Dada God, Kant Nu (thank you) for my van.”  Ok, that’s a start, what else Dutch?  He turns it over in his hand. “Dada God, kant nu for the front of my van.” Ok, what else Dutch?  “Dada God, kant nu for the side of my van.”  This continues… “kant nu for the back of my van…kant nu for the windshield…kant nu for the motor…kant nu for the bumper…” No joke.  He names every part of the ridiculous plastic van.

I’m lying there thinking of the amazing life this little boy has, of the friendships, the family, the new house, the wonderful fun things we do every day, and all he can thank God for is every little detail of his silly plastic van that we got at a garage sale for 25 cents last week.  In a way, though, it’s precious, because he’s choosing to thank God for what’s right in front of him.  Perhaps it’s narrow-minded, perhaps it’s not good perspective, but if the point of thanksgiving is to focus in on the blessings GOd has given us, if the point is to cultivate an attention to the richness of life, if the point is to become thankful people–then perhaps naming every single part of silly plastic van in our hands is really a pretty good idea.  It doesn’t mean I’m not thankful for the larger things, for the majestic mountains and vast oceans and the beauty of this valley and the glorious things God is doing in this world.  It just means that maybe it’s ok for me to sit here and thank him for the ice cream I had tonight, the way Heidi laughed out loud as she played with a sippy cup of water for the first time, for the built-in bookshelves that my dad made us, for the way that the pink knobs on Heidi’s dresser turned out after I painted them, for sitting on our porch swing in the cool fall air, for the sweet gathering of women I was part of last night, for the unexpected escrow refund check we received, for the beautiful pots of flowers delivered unexpectedly from a generous friend, for Mac eyeliner, for the MIRACLE that Dutch put all of his toys away and took a bath and went to bed without a fight tonight … I really could go on forever.

Really that’s the same as Dutch thanking for the bumper on his plastic van.  Very unremarkable, very temporal. And yet he’s thankful for it, and for that I’m thankful.  And I’m thankful he’s alive, and I’m thankful for what he teaches me each day … even if it’s that I’m never taking him to the Container Store again.  Goodnight, friends.  Let’s go to bed thankful tonight.