Now that we made it through this whirlwind of a day with last minute doctors appointments and lessons, I find myself reflecting on my only son and how I love him. Let me count the ways...
I love that he is fearless! Bugs...no problem. Diving boards...piece of cake. He sees something he wants to do and makes it happen. This most certainly comes with its challenges (ie a broken arm the weekend before our move), but I love it! Being a bit of a fearful person naturally, he inspires me to tackle my hesitations and think a bit less.
I love his persistence. He certainly doesn't give up easily. Some call it stubborn. I call it determined. I love watching him swing a bat (or golf club) in the front yard, and swing, and swing some more, until he hits the ball exactly the way he wants. He pushes through when its hard. This, too, comes with challenges for his Momma. But I love it and can already see it's redeemed nature.
I love his sense of humor. He makes me laugh out loud. The way he sees the world and can articulate his perspective...brings joy to me. And that slobbery laugh gets me every time!
I love how he loves his sisters...and how his sisters love him back. He is the ultimate "big brother" (even though he is in the middle of the 3 monkeys). Protective, engaging, encouraging. No one can make P laugh like Riv can. And TBird will be the first to tell you he is her best friend (most of the time). A bully kid at the pool kept pushing TBirds head under the water. Riv marched up to the kid, got in his face and said, "Don't touch my sister!" Love it. Keep it up, buddy.
I love that his Dad is his favorite person in the whole world! Seriously. No question. I have to remind him sometimes that I am the one who carried him for 9 months in my own womb, birthed him, and stayed up every night for 8 months trying to coax him back to sleep. He is yet unmoved by my sob story. But I still love it that he adores his Dad. Hope he always does.
I love how tough/resilient/unflappable he is. Dude had an arm the shape of a Gumbie gone all wrong and did not cry. Hardly complained. Tough. Dresses himself unassisted and one-armed, without being asked. Resilient. Wearing a cast while...yes, swimming. And jumping off the diving board I'll add. Unflappable. I could learn a thing or two from that monkey.
(and yes, that would be stars and stripes forever...he is quite patriotic, I suppose)
There are so many other little things that come to mind when I think about the "isms" that make me smile. His "excited face" when he gets a treat...
When he was a baby I started praying Micah 6:8 for him, that he would "do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God." The Lord is graciously leaning him that direction.
Oh, and just for fun...I had the privilege of making Rivers' birthday cupcakes (lizards on top...his idea) with the mixer my Mom and I cooked with when I was his age. It still works! It's still harvest gold! It's no Kitchen Aid, but it sure is a precious piece of vintagey history.