My Favorite Part Of The Day

My oldest son can be such a stinker. He really can. It’s not his fault, either, because he is SO much like me it’s not even funny. He’s one of those super determined, crazy smart, testing types that I respect so much but also drives me completely bonkers some days. We went through a particularly trying season when he was three years old. I felt like every day was a battle of the wills between him and I. He was frustrated. So was I.

I didn’t want this boy that can drive me so crazy but that I
also love more than life itself to have a single teeny,
tiny question in his heart about my unending love for him, faith
in his character,
and adoration for the way God made him.

So I started what has since become both of our favorite nightly routines.

I climb up his bunk bed ladder and lay next to him on his tiny twin bed plastered in Avengers sheets. He cuddles his stuffed dog Gick (where in the world does he come up with these names?!) and I tickle his back and place my head close to his. Then I rub some essential oils behind his ear and whisper,

“You are a kind boy. You are a listening boy. You are a strong boy. You are a smart boy. You are a fast boy. You are a handsome boy. You are a funny boy. You are a loving boy. You are a gentle boy. You are an obedient boy. You are a sweet boy. You are a forgiving boy. You are a loved boy. You are a precious boy. You are a wonderful boy. You are a good brother. You are my son. You are my favorite boy in the world.”

And he drifts off to sleep knowing his mama loves him. And I creep out of his room knowing I have done my very best that day.