For a 5 or 3 year old a couch seems to be considered a place to sit, lay, or successfully complete a head-stand... yeah, much like an adult. But for a 15-month old, a couch seems to be Mt. Everest. The challenge (100000 times a day) is to get on the couch and get off without falling with too much blood gushing from your head. This is our day... Finder trying with all his might to get on the couch and I'm amazed at how easily he can do it at times but then with such frustration the next (resulting in loud squeals that chafe my nerves)
Today, the couch has a whole new level of excitement. Meredy-Meese took the center cushion off to find Jessie's hat (from toy story.) Finder immediately rushed to the couch... as if someone attached an elevator onto the side of Mt. Everest... it was still a great accomplishment for him to be able to get to the top even though he didn't have to put forth too much effort. I'm like that some days, I must admit. But then he realizes that the couch has somehow transformed into a trampoline... so very bouncy. So I sit, watching his little chubby legs work to move his little round body. The joy is all about him: a face so lit up, his squeals of joy engulf the room, his fingers stretched out and shaking, and his little round toes working to make it all happen. Wow, I never knew that a couch could be so much fun! Maybe I'll just go right now and enjoy some bounce time, too.
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Life is full of miracles and yet, all too often we are too busy to take note. As Mommy, Snookie, Boogie, Mrs. Smailes, Sis. Angie, and AngO I sometimes feel like I get lost in the bustle of life ~ looking at the forest but forgetting about the trees... err, should I say, looking at the laundry piles and forgetting about the little feet that dirty those socks. In the end, I want to describe life not with all the big occurrances that fills most eulogies, but as one tiny miracle after another.
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