Crybaby

Well, those Sonlight people sure know how to pick the tear-jerkers! I don't think there's been a book yet we've read this year that hasn't had me in tears at some point. I can often count on Tyler joining me--he has such a soft heart--but more often than not the kids just chuckle when the waterworks start.

By now, they know the drill by heart: There I am, reading in a strong, firm voice, steady and sure; then a pause, then the book covers my face and I hear, "Oh boy, here she goes again." As I say, sometimes I look up to find tears shining in Tyler's eyes, but always the kids get a good laugh out of my blubbering.

We've read quite a variety of books thus far and there really is no pattern to what causes the tears to flow: Sometimes the subject is death, other times it's the emotion brought on by the sheer joy that life brings; sometimes the relationship between two people, be it husband and wife, father and child, between siblings or even good friends that causes me to tear up. And sometimes it's simply the fact that I'm reading aloud. For instance, I was already aware that one of Abraham Lincoln's sons died during Lincoln's presidency but somehow, as I was reading aloud to the kids the force of that piece of history and the knowledge of the pain that Lincoln was already suffering caused me to crumble.

Yesterday we finished up a book entitled Across Five Aprils, a fantastic book about an Illinois family who lives and suffers greatly in the midst of the Civil War. That book got me several times--I'd hate to ruin it for anyone who might actually pick it up and read it--but the Creightons see more than their fair share of hardships and grief, but it's also a beautifully written tale of endurance, perseverance and love. Oh brother, I'm choking up again!

Of course, it's not like I never cry anyway--I cry when I'm happy, too. I cried the evening Darcy came home from the orthodontist and was frustrated that she couldn't get her rubber bands in--I think I even blogged about it. She wouldn't rest until she could do it herself, but when I saw her big brother in the bathroom, talking her through the process, that simple act of love between him and her was enough to make me grab them both in a big bear hug while I wiped away tears (and while they pretended not to roll their eyes at their crazy mother!).

And now I'm off to cry at the mess that was made in my kitchen by three-and-a-half (Sawyer's not quite there yet) EXTREMELY self-sufficient children who made lunch by themselves. Or I could cry with joy that the reason the kitchen was left so hastily is because my children went to tidy their rooms without even being asked!

I'm going to need another box of Kleenex.