I love the ways our kids choose to copy us in random ways. It's rarely in the big moments; instead, it's the little things. I saw Bella this morning, swiping a DVD back and forth across her t-shirt, because that's how she always sees me clean them off. It's not the most professional method, but it's quick and easy when two toddlers are begging to watch Wall-E or Bambi. It makes me smile that this is one of the little ways she has chosen to copy me.
Or when she tells Rex, "No ma'am!" because that's what I say to her. Thank goodness she hasn't picked up on "Oh crap!", but it may just be a matter of time. I'm going to need to start quoting Scripture to the kids in my house. So far, when I tell her that something she did made Jesus sad, she looks at me like I'm crazy. At bedtime, we tell her that Daddy loves her, Mama loves her, Mel loves her, and Jesus loves her. I think she's waiting to meet the secret, extra addition to the family.
She has these unbelievably sweet moments, too. When she follows me into the bathroom as I'm throwing up, she'll pat my back and say, "Wha's frong?" In between gagging, I'll try to reassure her that I'm fine, and when I'm finally finished, she looks at me and says, "All done?" It doesn't sound sympathetic, but I think it's the best her two-year old brain can do.