So, there’s this video.
I wish I could post it here, but I don’t have access to it right now. It’s a classic, though—me, sick in bed, kids piled around me, also kinda sick but mostly just vibing. Crazy Legs, my tiniest at the time, was a few months old—old enough to hold her head up, not old enough to crawl, and definitely in that phase. The “I-must-grab-literally-everything-I-can-wrap-my-tiny-fingers-around” phase.
Enter Water Lily, holding a Bob Book—an important possession, as any book lover (or determined toddler) will tell you. Crazy Legs, being the curious little bean she was (is), reached out for it. And that’s when Water Lily—without hesitation, without contemplation, with full toddler authority—pushed her baby sister’s head.
"HEY! Don’t touch, baby!"
The sternness. The confidence. The commitment to justice. Water Lily was not playing games.
Now, as a parent, my job here was to step in, gently course-correct, and turn this into a learning moment. So I did what I do: I suggested kinder words.
"Crazy Legs, please don’t touch my book."
DNA, my oldest, who has always been incredibly receptive to my instructions, repeated my words exactly as I said them—like a peer mentor, like a translator, like a child whisperer. And, lo and behold, it worked. Water Lily actually followed suit.
Personalities in Action
I love this video so much because, whether they’d agree with me or not, it captures their personalities so well.
Now, I don’t believe personalities are set in stone—people grow, evolve, soften, sharpen—but there are foundational instincts that show up early. And in that moment, you could already see them shining through:
DNA: The natural teacher. The model of patience and receptivity.
Water Lily: The enforcer. The “no-nonsense, act first, figure it out later” kid.
Crazy Legs: The explorer. The little scientist reaching out, testing, observing, learning.
Crazy Legs was too young then to have a well-defined personality, but that moment—her little fingers stretching toward something new—is everything I love about children. That innate curiosity, that raw, wonderful instinct to explore. Before we teach kids the rules, before they learn to second-guess, they are just pure discovery in motion.
Berry Picking & Beautiful Whimsy
Since I can’t post the "Don't Touch, Baby!" video here, I’ll leave you with something else instead—two videos from our berry-picking adventures.
The first time, it was just me and the kids. The video has no audio because YouTube stripped it (apparently The Beatles' Here Comes the Sun is not in the public domain—who knew?), but if you could hear it, you’d know exactly why I picked that song.
The second time, I dragged Dad along. And while I’m sadly missing from both videos (as usual—because someone has to be behind the camera), I stitched them together, added the music, and made something that, to me, captures the magic of childhood.
The second video has a song I adore—"New Soul" by Yael Naïm. If childhood had a soundtrack, this is what I imagine it would sound like.
I wish all kids could have childhoods as beautiful, whimsical, and full of wonder as that song feels like.
Final Thought
I don’t know if you remember that day, that moment, or even those berry-picking trips. But I do. And I love you more today than I did yesterday—but not as much as tomorrow.
Always,
Mom
