Day 45 -- Scented Children
I have said for a while now that Breslin and Dharia have their very own smells.
(For those of you who are English and/or grammar snobs out there, I do know that smell is not used correctly here and throughout the rest of this post, but I didn't have it in me to say that my children have odors.)
And, no, I don't mean the nasty smells that are often associated with small children, although they are responsible for those smells too.
I'm talking about that smell that is an essential part of who they are. It's that smell that would allow me to correctly identify them -- blindfolded with a gun pointed to my head -- out of thousands of children, if the need ever arose. All I'd have to do is take a big long whiff. Sounds crazy, right? If you say yes, you're not alone. Every time I talk about "the smell" with my husband he looks at me with these blank, bewildered eyes as if I've just offered him confirmation that, yes, I am totally crazy.
I can't describe these smells to you, but I can tell you that Breslin and Dharia each have it and they are remarkably different. One isn't better or worse than the other, but they are both there.
And today, I realized AJ has one too. It's just as bizarre, and unique, and wonderful as the others, but it is distinctly Adelai.
Research shows that scent is the strongest trigger of memory, and I believe this wholeheartedly to be true. Just taking a small breath of Olde English scented air takes me back to my childhood home on Elm Street watching my mom take care of all of our old woodworking throughout the house. The odor of a doctor's office or hospital puts me back in my brother's room at Mott Hospital. One whiff of the smell of fresh cut grass and I am on the John Deere mower at King Road in my swimsuit, tag-teaming the lawn with my dad. I sincerely hope that someday many years from now, I will be packing up something and the wave of my kids' scents, their own personal scents will come over me and remind me of this time when they were small, when they needed me, when I was their favorite person in the whole wide world.
At least this would beat having to identify them blindfolded with a gun to my head.
Thank God for scented children!
Lord, thank you for giving me scented children who each have their own distinct scent. Thank you for the connection it makes me feel as though I have with them, even though I am sure others might think I am nuts because of it. Thank you for making them so wildly different in personality and in smell. I feel so lucky that you gave them to me to take care of. Help me to do it well for your glory. In your name I pray, Amen.
(For those of you who are English and/or grammar snobs out there, I do know that smell is not used correctly here and throughout the rest of this post, but I didn't have it in me to say that my children have odors.)
And, no, I don't mean the nasty smells that are often associated with small children, although they are responsible for those smells too.
I'm talking about that smell that is an essential part of who they are. It's that smell that would allow me to correctly identify them -- blindfolded with a gun pointed to my head -- out of thousands of children, if the need ever arose. All I'd have to do is take a big long whiff. Sounds crazy, right? If you say yes, you're not alone. Every time I talk about "the smell" with my husband he looks at me with these blank, bewildered eyes as if I've just offered him confirmation that, yes, I am totally crazy.
I can't describe these smells to you, but I can tell you that Breslin and Dharia each have it and they are remarkably different. One isn't better or worse than the other, but they are both there.
And today, I realized AJ has one too. It's just as bizarre, and unique, and wonderful as the others, but it is distinctly Adelai.
Research shows that scent is the strongest trigger of memory, and I believe this wholeheartedly to be true. Just taking a small breath of Olde English scented air takes me back to my childhood home on Elm Street watching my mom take care of all of our old woodworking throughout the house. The odor of a doctor's office or hospital puts me back in my brother's room at Mott Hospital. One whiff of the smell of fresh cut grass and I am on the John Deere mower at King Road in my swimsuit, tag-teaming the lawn with my dad. I sincerely hope that someday many years from now, I will be packing up something and the wave of my kids' scents, their own personal scents will come over me and remind me of this time when they were small, when they needed me, when I was their favorite person in the whole wide world.
At least this would beat having to identify them blindfolded with a gun to my head.
Thank God for scented children!
Lord, thank you for giving me scented children who each have their own distinct scent. Thank you for the connection it makes me feel as though I have with them, even though I am sure others might think I am nuts because of it. Thank you for making them so wildly different in personality and in smell. I feel so lucky that you gave them to me to take care of. Help me to do it well for your glory. In your name I pray, Amen.
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