Clint and I are in weddings this July, two different weddings. Clint is standing in one of his best childhood friend's wedding and I am standing in a wedding for my best friend from college. Luckily, these weddings are taking place on different weekends, yet only a week apart. One is Up North and the other is here in good ol' Grand Rapids.
Both parties had celebratory events in Leelanau County this past weekend. The timing was perfect. Clint was able to go golfing during the day and I was able to go out to dinner at night. I think it was the first time I had been out with Katrina, the bride-to-be, since college! She lives in Austin, Texas currently and whenever she has visited in the past, it has always been at our house to see the babies.
While Clint was out for the day and my friend was recovering from her previous night out, we hung out with my mom on Lime Lake for the afternoon. The water was warm, although no one really went swimming. But we ate lunch on the dock, played basketball, walked around in the water and watched the dogs swim.
Later I met Katrina at Red Ginger for sushi. It was a delicious night! Yummy food and lots and lots of laughter. It reminded me of a life I once lived, yet was just long enough that I was ready to get back to my boys. After returning for the night, Clint ventured back out and kept celebrating.
As the sun went down, Rowan and I were both very ready for sleep. My mom and Porter stayed outside tending to the chiminea fire and searching for shooting stars on the brick patio.
The next morning my mom said Porter is the smartest child she's ever met. Ahem. Well. Yes, we think he's very bright too, but he's also our child! Who doesn't think their own child is so bright?
She told us how as they were stretched out on the blankets, looking at the constellations, she said something about the sun going goodnight and it would wake back up in the morning.
Porter corrected her by informing her that the sun didn't go to sleep- it is on the other side of the world now and it is daylight there when it is dark here.
It is true that young children are sponges. And, they don't just absorb information, but they take information in to every part of their being. They internalize everything. Stories, facts, emotions and experiences. They are forming their self and everything becomes a part of them in some form.
Sharing the truth with them when they ask or when they are curious helps them to build their self and contemplate their world.
There's a reason why children at a certain age ask "why" so often.
Because they need to know.
They are craving information about their world.
And when things are explained, when patience is given and moments are paused, they make connections.
I know Porter is bright. But, I don't think he's overly bright or gifted. I think he's just given what he needs. Not perfectly by any means; aren't we all wishing we could give more?
But, he does seem to be getting by just fine.
In the morning, we took the boys to Good Harbor- a special beach on Lake Michigan where we both spent many days of our own childhood.
We worked on carving out a large trench and making a different channel for the cold water that was coming from the woods and slipping out into the big lake.
I remember up the stream there were always big old trees down along the water. I climbed and jumped off of them as a child too.
We all watched in awe as the little channel, as wide as only Clint's hand, grew and grew and grew. Porter stuck in some sticks, we watched as the water level rose up the sticks and noticed ripples and dips forming on the channel bed. Rapids and great rushes of water in this little itty-bitty landform.
Eventually, Porter helped break down the dam, block off the channel and watched the water surge freely where it has once flowed.
Back to the beginning again, but with a lot more force. A lot more power.
In some ways it reminded me of life and the different journeys and paths we take along the way. We try something new, it builds and builds and takes a great hold on our life, but we will always be what we were in the beginning. We'll always come back. Hopefully, with greater knowledge and power. To be who we once were, but stronger.