Baby Mine

Today I was at Target doing one of the things I hate the most: trying on clothes. I was in the back corner dressing room when a family came in to try on back-to-school clothes. This family consisted of a mom, a daughter and two sons. I could never see this family, but I heard them. It would have been impossible not to. And what I heard nearly broke my heart. Every single sentence that came from the mother's mouth was spoken with an edge and bark that made me shudder. There was no love anywhere in the tone or words she was using. I listened for about five minutes before I couldn't take it anymore, and I left the dressing room saying a quick prayer for that mom and her children. I promptly headed over to my son, playing in the toy section with his Nana, and gave him the biggest hug.

Being a parent is tough sometimes. It can become downright annoying when little personalities start to develop that scream for independence and rebellion. So, I will allow for the fact that perhaps this mother was having one of those days and her patience was a little thin. But don't we all know someone whose normal voice sounds like a yell and who always seems mad or irritated? I was a crisis counselor for two years, trust me when I say that some families speak in shouts and barks. I sure hope this is not me. I don't think it is, but I do have my days when anger wins out over patience. It takes a very focused and conscious effort to discipline and correct in love, and not anger. And I don't always hit the nail on the head there. But I want to take this opportunity to tell him, and the blog readers, all the things on the other side of that coin.

Luke, my child, you are:

sweet

brave

kind

loving

gentle

sensitive

friendly

outgoing

opinionated

happy

dramatic

helpful

charming

caring

polite

smart

funny

creative

and above all else, silly

I love everything about you, even on your worst day. Even as you are telling me to go away and leave you alone. Even when you are throwing your tenth fit in 30 minutes. Even when you don't quite make it to the potty on time and when you don't even touch the sandwich I spent ten minutes making because you HAD to have it - yes, sweet boy, even then. I hope you grow up with the confidence it takes to face this world and come out whole. I hope you never have to doubt for one second that you are loved and treasured. And I pray, everyday, that I will speak more kindnesses than I do warnings. That we will laugh more than we cry, talk more than we shout, and that I will never be too busy to enjoy you or create moments that matter.

With every bit of my heart (and perhaps a tiny bit more),

Mom