I thought I was going to write a post about how the proudest moment I've had since becoming a parent was this past Sunday. My oldest child was at the front of church, singing in her very first Christmas program, while my youngest child was sitting on my lap excitedly slapping the pew in front of us because his beloved sister was waving at us and saying "Hello, [Back Seat Boy]", over and over again in the tiny little voice she reserves just for him.
I was going to write about that, but then this morning happened.
Back Seat Girl woke up with a bit of a cough, and over breakfast she was asking me how she got it. I told her she had caught a germ and it was inside of her making her cough. She thought about this for a moment and then said "I wish I would get a white blood cell to eat the germ in me and make me all better". After swelling with pride for a moment I told her she already has white blood cells, we all do, and they are trying to eat the germ right now. She has been talking about her white blood cells all day, and while I was telling her about how they eat the germs she asked, very solemnly "will it hurt?". She has also asked me how long it will take.
Now, if Back Seat Boy will just learn to say adenosine tryphosphate, my life will be complete.
Also-I tried another thing that's not very easy with a 3 year old and a 1 year old "helping"--scrubbing the kitchen floor. It didn't take long to remember why I usually wait for naptime to get out large buckets of water.