I got the idea for this post from Rocks in My Dryer, but I’d been thinking about blogging some of the stuff my little one says and this is a great opportunity to do that.
My children are eighteen years old and five years old. Our son was adopted when our daughter was twelve years old, so in honor on National Adoption Awareness Month (thanks to Perky for alerting me to this) I’m using purple for my posts this month.
Of course, she’s a girl, he’s a boy, but the differences go so much deeper.
The Girl was a delicate little flower as a child, careful and safe. We never had to baby-proof anything because she never really got into anything she shouldn’t.
The Boy climbed the moment he realized he could and knew no fear, diving head first off the couch and climbing out of his crib.
The Girl seems to have inherited my medical problems and her father’s height, but did not get any of the allergies that plague her father.
The Boy has the same allergies as his dad and in many ways, they are worse (he was adopted, remember!).
The Girl was always quiet in school. We were always surprised when her teachers told us that she was quiet because she blabbered all the time at home.
The Boy gets in trouble for talking during work time and rest time at school.
The Girl watched The Little Mermaid over and over again until I can recite the whole movie from heart.
The Boy ran toward a creepy bloody face on a DVD box at Blockbuster and demanded (at age 3!) that we rent this movie! (Um, NO!)
The Girl believed everything we told her about Jesus from the time she was able to say “Jesus made me.” She never questioned her faith, at least not in our hearing.
The Boy questions EVERYTHING! Mass is an interesting experience with him. I told him one Sunday to turn around and face front because we weren’t there to pay attention to the little girl behind him.
Me: “We’re supposed to be paying attention to Jesus.”
Him: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see him there.”
We have many interesting theological discussions as I try to tell him what I can about the Eucharist and our faith. Whenever the priest holds up the host and says, “This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper.” I tell the Boy to look.
Me: See? It’s Jesus.
Him: I don’t see any eyes.
One day, as we were talking about how he behaves in school, I told him that he maybe should pray to God and ask for help.
Him: God is just a statue in Church.
Nope, this is not going to be a kid who believes easily. I pray that like Jacob, if he has to wrestle with God, he will come out blessed and strong in his faith.