So today, hearing for the umpteenth time how laid-back and pleasant Emery really, really is, an old soul so expertly performing in her five months of life, I have finally figured it out.
She's the only child born on the West Coast. And in the Northwest, at that, where emotional stability is decidedly more German than Mid-Southern. The rest of American-born family has taken root east of the Mississippi, and their personality undertones are certainly on the East Coast side of the spectrum. Throw in my own Russian Cossack bits, and no wonder Emery has chosen to be our familial Switzerland, neutral, and so amazingly cool and, in all aspects, pleasant.
In other news, Jack is turning into the final stretch of potty training [Oh Happy Day!] and Maya finished her first week of kindergarten with her most pressing memory being that of winning 600 (!) arcade tickets at Big Al's. This duo continues to jive and bond more daily, and watching them dole out small kindnesses to each other regularly and without parental solicitation soothes my heart.
Tonight for the first time Jack insisted on a bedtime prayer that covered more ground than his usual profound "GOD AMEN!!" multi-decibel declaration, and it went something like this:
"God thank you for good food and when Mommy and Daddy come don't push them Amen."
...Can I get an 'Amen'?!
Separately and seriously, it is humbling to observe his sister's budding faith and prayer life start to take root in Jackman. Much wisdom is allotted to us very early in life, which we manage to lose almost entirely for the duration of our adult lives, only to possibly regain its vestiges in old days.
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