Molly and I headed to my favorite strawberry patch on Tuesday. Nana, Dodie, and Emily came with us, too. It was a little overcast, but it did not rain. Isn't it beautiful?
My little strawberry inspector. She waited until the very end to start sampling.
Don't you love the boots the girls decided to wear? So cute!
"Mommy, this bucket is heavy!"
When we got home, Molly helped me make strawberry jam. She was such a fabulous little helper. She did every single step.
She washed the strawberries.
She cut the strawberries.
She poured the sugar and pectin.
She stirred it up.
And measured the jam into each of the containers. She even put on the lids. She felt so proud of herself, so very grownup.
I know there are a lot of pictures of a very simple moment, but I don't seem to have as many of these with Molly as I had with her brothers. I feel most days that Molly has a very different mom, a very different life than her big brothers had when they were 4. I don't have as much time with her as I want. We don't paint as much, the play dough isn't pulled out as much, we don't visit museums as much. I don't accept as many invitations to play with her. I feel like I have to work really hard to carve out time to be with Molly in the moment. And when the moments happen, I want to cherish them, live in them wholly, and freeze time. I want to notice all of the little details. The pink boots that she feels are the perfect accessory for any occasion, the strawberry stains on her yellow shirt, the spilled sugar on the table. I love my dear little Molly. I pray that the Mommy she has is enough. Because she is amazing and I stand in awe of her sweetness, her nurturing instincts, her spunky sense of humor, and her newly discovered talent of making strawberry freezer jam. I am determined to be better, to pause more, to accept more invitations to play tiger, and to enjoy every moment of her childhood.