Mini ninjas. Three blonde haired beauties. My reason for waking. All that is good in this world, they are to me.

I’m writing this morning. Writing for my book and writing for fun and writing for this site that I’m so blessed to have been asked by three amazing men to write.  I look over at the castle and marketplace taking up the entire living room.  Lessons learned every second from babygirls learning to navigate life.  No quiet Sunday mornings here.  Yelling, hooting, hollering over ownership of new toys.

Navigating social scenarios with fighting, making up, learning to share, tears, and laughter.  Oh what I learn.  Smack, crack … that’s “MY TOY” turns to “You can share it BooBoo”.  Inclusion and the idea of three being better than one.  Whispers of “I love you Baby J. You can be the princess now.”  Intuitively resolving conflict with a kiss and all is forgiven.  The practice of tolerance and patience.  Child like innocence flavored with stealing candy from the cupboard.  Shiny new toys are pieces of love given back and forth and back again; making name tags from Santa worthless.

Oh to be so childlike.  To share just because it’s the right thing to do.  Dry someone’s eyes when they cry, not focusing on the reason but just because they’re sad.  NO advice giving. NO judgement.  Pure kindness (even after the two year old broke the Ninja Princess Tiara).  Shameless self promotion, “See how beautiful I am in my new dress Mommy?”.   The idea of NOT seeing herself as beautiful is foreign and odd. Then telling the younger two that they are just as beautiful.  The idea of  beauty in others inspires rather than threatens.  Knowing that they are unique and perfect and special, just because they are (and from Mommy telling them so I hope).

Truth. The eyes to see it and the ability to be the real deal with cookie crumbs stuck to their cheeks.  Not caring what others think unless they’ve earned it.  Ultimate self worth and an environment of abundance.  How do I live this way today? I use twelve steps to do what they do naturally.  They are my teachers everyday and I am the one in the corner with the dunce cap.  My prayer is that I can be like the Mini Ninja’s someday.  That examples of innocence and loving kindness can permeate my dense noggin. Then again, I DO have the eyes to see such.  My four year old comes to me and says “Mommy will you play Ninja Princess Castle with us?” .

I am included in the beauty of blonde ninjahood.  It is more than I ever dared to hope for … off to slay a dragon folks. I’m gonna be awhile…