There Is Nothing Like…

Little Boys

Do they ever stop? I guess, technically, you could say that they do. They do need to sit still to be able to eat and they do fall asleep for some prolonged period every night. But, for the most part, they are on the go.

There is nothing like a little boy….

Whose hands and feet get messy nearly the instant he steps outside. Messy hands that always want to (or try to at least once) pry off his shoes when he is outside because he would rather run around barefoot – even in the fall. Messy hands that mush down play dough, that play in the sink and inevitably get water all over their mommy’s kitchen floor.

There is nothing like a little boy….

A little boy who is almost to heavy for his mommy to carry (38 pounds and counting.) A little boy who will make a mother mourn those days of being able to carry him to and fro when that day comes and she just can’t pick up him anymore. A little guy, whose big blue eyes are mesmerized by airplanes in the sky without fail every time he sees them. Eyes that are fixated on the television, watching Buzz Lightyear. Eyes that a mother just can’t stand being THAT beautiful. That clear, that blue.

There is nothing like a little boy….

Who the instant he returns from a walk with daddy, seeks out mommy. Who comes and lays his head on her lap and tells him about the things that he saw. Who seeks out his mother whenever she steps out of the room practically – even though this tends to drive her crazy. A little boy who doesn’t slow down. Who falls off of the swing set, but gets right back up laughing. That same little boy who sometimes doesn’t get right back up laughing, and needs his mother. A little boy who makes his mother ponder just what he is made of. Ponder why he needs to be messy, why he needs to always be going. And how without even being taught, he decided that he likes anything with wheels, a motor and that could be used as a makeshift sword.

There is nothing like a little boy…

Who breaks his mother’s heart whenever she measures his height on the wall, seeing that he has grown yet another inch. Whose mother has to spend time each season putting away those clothes that he is never, ever going to wear again. That favorite, staple shirt with the green dinosaur on it and a stain that was her very favorite, no longer to be used. A little man who becomes more and more self-aware as the days pass on. More and more opinions, and more and more creativity. And who decided, on his own, to replace some of the words to “Ole McDonald” to fart noises, all on his own.

There is nothing like a little boy….

who smells like baby wash when he gets out of the tub. Who would spend all day in the water if he could. How he likes to snuggle after bath time, still. How snuggly he is after he first wakes up from his naps. That he still likes to be picked up, too. And how sometimes, he fights his mommy off when she wants a kiss, even though he demands that she sit with him and not get up. A little boy who has to sometimes be reminded to not lick the wall when he is in time out and to not stuff his toy airplane up his nose, even if it seems like a good idea at the time.

Little boys.

What makes up a little boy? Stains and bruises, messy hands and feet. Noises, lots and lots of noises. Plenty of smiles. Lots of tenderness. And unfortunately, sometimes, a lot of attitude.

I needed to write this and remind myself of these things tonight. This post was originally going to be about both of my children, but I wanted to write about Jerry.

Today has been a long day, a long discipline and frustration filled day, tantrums and back talking included. These are the days that sometimes break your heart. You plan for your day to go well. Your day to be filled with time together, lots of laughter and silliness. And sometimes, it just doesn’t go how you think it will. And sometimes, these moments just roll off of a parent’s back. Other’s it feels like crushing defeat. Like you failed them. Like you’re failing as a parent. These times I feel like God pries open my heart, trying to show me where I can be more patient, wise and full of goodness. Where I can be better, so that I can instruct my son to be better.

I needed to write about how I see my son, when all I feel like I have been seeing him as lately is a little terror (just being honest.) But I know and see his heart, that he is a wonderful little guy. I just needed perspective.

Struggling with the funk tonight, with feeling the defeat. God is gracious and tomorrow is another day. A hurricane filled day, but a day none the less.


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