The weather has been so lovely lately.

I love waking up in the morning to the sounds of birds and the cool spring air.

First thing in the morning I fling open the kitchen windows.

Yesterday Anna got all of her play things out of the garage. I filled up a bucket full of soapy water and handed her a wash cloth. Her imagination went wild. She "cleaned" all of her toys. 

Three is such a magical age.

The world, to a three year old, is full of exciting adventures. 

Each day brings something new to discover.

The simple tasks of life, to a three year old, are extraordinary.

I love this age.

I loved it with Paul and I love it with Anna.

I feel that I am given that rare opportunity to redo my childhood.

When you have a little one the world becomes magical again. 

Paul, at 6 years of age, is slowly slipping out of that magical stage of life and into the knowledge seeking stage. 

On most days he tends to look at the world through two different eyes: imaginative and scientific.

Yesterday morning we barely got him to school on time because he kept talking about the differences between the oceans. 

The differences between them "fascinate" him.

The vastness of the solar system leaves him "perplexed."

He insists that I read him nonfiction books about important people, interesting creatures, the world and man made machines.

Each month he chomps at the bit waiting for his kids national geographic to come in the mail. 

Tuesday night after I prayed over our food he said, "Mom, why did you thank God for placing this food before us?  God didn't place this food in front of me. You did. You prepared it and put it in front of us."  When I tried to explain how God provided the food for us, he said, "But how did God DO that?"  Paul then went on to state facts about how, scientifically and agriculturally, the food was brought to our table. "Then you and Anna went to the store bought it, brought it home and cooked it."

I sat speechless, amazed at his wealth of knowledge at 6 years of age. 

I then suggested that we wait until Daddy got home to explain it to us both.

Surely Roger would be able to explain how God provides for us to our 6 year old son.

He is in fact the preacher.

I am merely the simple minded housewife who attempts, and fails, at theological discussions with her 6 year old. 

As I sat back in the lawn chair yesterday watching our 3 year old daughter using her vivid imagination, I felt very grateful.   Grateful that I have been able to be the simple little house wife that spends her days raising her young ones. 

I am grateful for this time in our lives. 

It really does go by so fast.

They grow and then they're gone; leaving an empty house full of precious memories.