If you’re a parent and ever get frustrated with your kids (every parent), especially if they are younger kids, you need to check out the Disney short called “Float.”
It’s only 6 minutes long and can be watched on Disney+ or HERE.
I have to remind myself often that Ivy is constantly experimenting. Everything she does is an attempt to understand the world around her. She’s never really trying to make a mess or destroy things. She’s only trying to see how that food that’s thrown will splatter and land.
This Disney short reminds us that all children are unique and special. No matter how challenging our children are, we must remember they’re the greatest gift in the world. Every so often I have to pause and watch Ivy and think how amazing it is she is what she is. She was nothing 3 years ago. Today she is a living, breathing, experimenting, ever challenging, extraordinary person.
I have to constantly temper what I think I want from Ivy.
I want her to be confident, but I like it when she is quiet and reverent in public, especially at church.
I want her to be independent but one day I’ll desperately miss her wanting to hold my hand.
I want her to want my attention. Unless I’m busy.
I want her to laugh and have fun and show joy. Unless it’s too loud.
I want her to ask for help when she needs it, but I want her to do things she is capable of without me. At the same time, like the hand holding, one day I’ll desperately miss when my babe needed my help.
All these contradictions we go through as parents.
This is a short post just to be a reminder to all parents that your children are special. What makes them difficult and challenging is what makes them special. We aren’t meant to change our children. I actually think they’re meant to change us.
I don’t think anything makes me feel closer to God than staring into the eyes of my babies. I’ve written about it before HERE. I don’t remember this specifically with Ivy, though I’m sure it happened. But with Sage I’ve stared into her eyes and it’s the most outstanding, humbling feeling.
What did I do to deserve this gift?
As I hold Sage and she begins to drift off into sleep, while comfortably in my arms, I wonder what I did to deserve so much trust. She is so comfortable in my arms, so content, so peaceful, so trusting. Why does she trust me? What did I do to earn that trust?
Nothing.
Or maybe everything.
I don’t know how Sage, Ivy, and I interacted before coming here. Before coming to earth were we best friends, running around, shooting hoops, reading books, taking walks? Maybe I did earn that trust.
What did I do to earn the trust of God, to send His daughters to me?
As I stare into Sage’s eyes, I see the eyes of God.
She is His daughter. She is of His lineage. She is a princess, not of me, but of Him. And as I stare into her eyes, I think that’s the overwhelming, outstanding, humbling feeling I get, that I described above. It’s looking into the eyes of God.
I’ve long anticipated this moment. I didn’t know what it would be like to have my heart split into another section. I talked about when Ivy was born, how my world flipped upside down. I’ve heard that the feeling of having a second child is incommensurable. How can you describe loving two things so much?
Sage Laura
I’ll be honest, when Sage was born, it wasn’t what I expected.
The love for Sage, compared with my love for Ivy – it is different, and yet so the same. This isn’t a contradiction but, I think, a profound truth. I can’t help but think of Ivy as I look at Sage. I love them both so much. I see a glimpse of how Heavenly Father can feel.
I can imagine how my Heavenly Father can see me and love me so much. And as He sees me, He thinks about my mom and my dad, my siblings, my wife, my children. When I look at Sage, I’m reminded how much I love Ivy, and vice versa. It is a welding link of love. This doesn’t diminish the love at all. It expands it.
It’s the best I can put into words what having a second daughter was like.
My love for Beth expands in these moments too.
I couldn’t understand how I could love Beth more, or how I could love someone like I loved Ivy. I couldn’t imagine how my heart could split in three. But now I realize, it’s not splitting. It’s expanding. And with it, my understanding of Heavenly Father is expanding. I understand that His heart and love can’t possibly split for all of us. It expands for all of us. That’s how He can be the definition of love, He has so much to love. His heart has expanded beyond our comprehension. This is what I realized when I looked at Sage. My heart expanded a proportionate amount to how it expanded when Ivy came into my life.
3 girls
I got to speak to Ivy today. I pointed at her and told her, “You’re my girl, and I love you so much. And guess what? I have three girls!” Ivy’s eyes got wide, one of my favorite things she does. I continued, “I have Sage, and I have your mom, 3 girls! One Ivy, two Sage, three Mom. I love you all so much, my three girls.”
It’s a phenomenal feeling. Any feeling that helps me to understand Heavenly Father more is amazing and special to me.
I’ll be interested to read my 12/4/20 Ivy post after writing this to see how they compare. Right now, I am full of gratitude. Sometimes I can’t believe that God has given us this gift, His most powerful gift. He has trusted me to take care of His daughters while here. They become my daughters, but always His as well. This brings me so much comfort. I want my daughters to know that they’re never alone. I am always here for them, and so is their Father in Heaven. They’ll never be without a dad.
I went back and re-read that post of Ivy’s birth. There are some things I wrote about Ivy that, if Sage ever looks back and reads this, I want her to know apply to her also. My two girls.
From that post –
“When I first saw Ivy James Quackenbush my heart expanded, my world flipped upside down. In an instant I realized I would do anything, I would give my life without a second thought and at a moment’s notice for that beautiful soul. She was perfect, so beautiful.
I wish I could put it into words, but they’re not enough. My life as I knew it was over. And I knew it. This little thing was the new center. The center of my universe- along with Beth. (Now I have three centers to my universe).
I couldn’t stop staring at Ivy. The gravitational pull of the universe had changed.
Sage
The thoughts I hadn’t let start because her coming had always been surreal started to flood my mind: I’m going to play basketball with her. I hope she loves basketball. We’ll play together. We’ll be best friends. I hope I never hurt her. I hope I can always protect her. (Now they’re my two best friends. Ivy is my MVP and Sage is my DPOY).
How does Heavenly Father love me? I’m a little closer to understanding today. I’m a little closer to understanding what true love is.”
I’ve realized something else now that Sage jas been with us 5 days. Yes, my world flipped upside down when I saw each of them. Yes, the gravitational pull was palpable. But what really develops that love into a bond truly unbreakable is the countless hours laying on my chest, the first grin that I get to see, the hours of bouncing and burping, the feeding, the watching them grow. I think this is why the motherhood bond is so powerful. Mothers often get more of these experiences than fathers, unfortunately. It is these moments that unite us to our children for eternity. These are the favorite moments of my life. When Sage lays on my chest and instantly falls asleep, I’m reminded I’ll do anything for her. I’m reminded how much I love her.
When I go through difficult times, for whatever reason that might be, I often find myself thinking to myself a lyric from the song “A Child’s Prayer.”
“Heavenly Father, are you really there?”
I was recently having one of those difficult times and was thinking this phrase.
I went to church that Sunday and said a prayer asking that if there was some guidance I could receive, that I’d hear it. It was a particularly distracted day with Ivy in church. Quick side note, it’s amazing how distracting a toddler can be in church. Ivy is really good in church, and yet I still find it so difficult to focus on the speakers while also making sure she’s ok and entertained.
Despite the normal distractions, I caught a speaker mentioning, “Heavenly Father, are you really there?” I can’t remember in what context. I believe it might have been the youth speaker. I perked up, but that was it, the moment passed.
It was a thoroughly uplifting Sunday that day and I found myself feeling in much better spirits. Still, there were those lingering “difficulties” in the background.
The next day I was with Ivy in her room. I am more and more convinced that Ivy, and probably all children, are still at least 50% angel. The coincidences Ivy causes in my life are too perfect.
I was in her rocking chair on my computer reading and doing stuff while she played. Suddenly she came over to me which isn’t unusual. I put my computer away and pulled out my phone instead. I wanted to look up the songs we had in church the previous day because I had a song stuck in my head but didn’t know it’s name. I pulled up Youtube to play the sacrament song and confirm it was the one stuck in my head.
We listened to the song and then Ivy reached for the phone, again, not something out of the ordinary by any means. She started tapping it with her finger. I saw her click a couple recommended videos that were on the side of the screen and then she pulled her hand away. A video started playing. I didn’t recognize the song (at first). It had a long introduction and then there were images of children with their parents. Children praying with their parents, being tucked in, coloring, playing.
Suddenly it started.
Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer? Some say that Heaven is far away But I feel it close around me as I pray
“I feel it close around me as I pray” is the part, during times of difficulty, that I struggle with. Because in those times I don’t always feel heaven close around me as I pray.
I started to cry.
The song continued.
Heavenly Father, I remember now Something that Jesus told disciples long ago “Suffer the children to come to me” Father, in prayer I’m coming now to thee
I looked at Ivy.
Then the song continued.
Pray, He is there Speak, He is listening You are His child His love now surrounds you He hears your prayer He loves the children Of such is the kingdom, the kingdom of Heaven
It had been so long since I’d heard the full song I truly didn’t remember that part. And when I heard it, it was so clear. It was so clear. In moments of challenge I remember the part, “Heavenly Father, are you really there?” But I’d forgotten the part, “He is there. Speak, He is listening. You are His child. His love now surrounds you. He hears your prayer.”
I remembered.
Sometimes it’s so hard to hear Him. Sometimes it’s so hard to remember He is there.
Then He reminds you.
I want to remind everyone reading. He is there. Speak, He is listening.
The world can yell at me that it was a complete coincidence that Ivy somehow brought up that song that I’ve never listened to before on Youtube. I say, that’s ridiculous. I needed to be reminded that my Father was there and listening, and so he reminded me. Through my angel.
I’m grateful for Him. I’m grateful for all my angels.
I dusted off this post I wrote 3 months before Ivy was born, but never shared. Seemed inspired to post it after just sharing about how much I learn from Ivy every day.
Matthew 18:1-5
1At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?
2 And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them,
3 And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
4 Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
5 And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.
As the birth of my daughter approaches, I think more about children and why we’re admonished to be like them. I’ve been thinking a lot about the divine nature of children. We are so blessed to have children in our life. We have been given the extraordinary privilege of welcoming and guiding a life into mortality. What a gift this is.
I think the divine nature of children should impact every parent. I don’t have my own child yet (3 months and counting!), but I grew up with many siblings. I know the struggle it is to always appreciate a child. Kids can be so obnoxious! I know throughout day-to-day life it can be difficult sometimes to remember how precious our children really are, how much of a gift children are to us.
I think if parents stopped and considered the responsibility of raising a life, teaching and nurturing a young mind and spirit, it should add an intense reverence to everything we say and do around kids.
I cringe when I see adults swear around young kids. It makes me uncomfortable. Kids soak up everything we say and do. A moment in the life of a busy adult that seems insignificant can be a defining moment in a child’s life. If all parents took a moment to understand that, to ponder it, and to appreciate the impact they have on their kids, I think the world would be a much better place. Parents have the ability to teach kindness and sensitivity. These are things kids pick up on.
If parents took a moment to consider the responsibility of teaching one of God’s children, that should be another sobering moment for all adults. God has given you the opportunity as a parent to cultivate and protect a spirit, His child. What greater responsibility is there in the world?
In 3 Nephi 26 verses 14 and 16 we read:
14 “And it came to pass that he (Christ) did teach and minister unto the children of the multitude… and he did loose their tongues, and they did speak unto their fathers great and marvelous things, even greater than he had revealed unto the people; and he loosed their tongues that they could utter.”
16 “…and they both saw and heard these children; yea, even babes did open their mouths and utter marvelous things; and the things which they did utter were forbidden that there should not any man write them.”
I’ve been pondering on this significant moment in scripture. Christ is in the Americas ministering to His people and their young children are present. What we’re told is something so spectacular it’s difficult to comprehend. We read that the children did speak “even greater (things) than (Jesus Christ) had revealed unto the people.”
Think about that for a moment. Here was Christ, the supreme creator, Son of God, our Lord and Savior, ministering and teaching the people. He loosed the tongues of young children and they spoke things greater than Jesus Christ Himself had revealed. Verse 16 goes on to tell us the things the babes spoke were so sacred that they were forbidden to write their words. This is similar to the prayer of Jesus Christ to the Father. These children were saying such sacred things it could not be written.
I believe something important was being shown to the ancient Nephites. Perhaps more than opening the mouths of babes, the Lord was opening the eyes and ears of their astonished parents. Those parents had been granted the extraordinary gift of a glimpse into eternity and of beholding the identity and premortal stature of their children. Would that not forever change the way the parents saw and treated their children?
I like this variation of a quote attributed to Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: “The way you see [a child] is the way you treat them, and the way you treat them is [who] they [will] become.” To remember a child’s true identity helps us to guide them to their divine destiny.
I hope we always remember how precious children are. Even when they’re at their peak of obnoxious-ness, let’s remember that they are gifts. They are special. Most of all, we’re supposed to be like them.
I’m excited to have a daughter soon and be able to marvel daily at the gift God has given me and how lucky I am for the blessings He continues to give me.
No Coincidences 