These 8 words hit me like a ton of bricks as they were spilling out of the soft, little lips of my six year old baby boy.
The words pounded against my heavy heart with the blunt force of an axe hitting the base of a large, unmovable, old oak tree.
You see these past days....... well, they've been a mothering booger bear, a feat, a gladiator-style throw down worthy of lions & tigers & Russell Crowe. Oh my!
I don't think the term "throw down" is all that gladiatorial....... but surely, you're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down.
It's been a battle around here.
A battle between the two of us. I feel that some evil creature has pitted my baby & me against each other, as we both fight for our own wants & needs.
In the past week, I've washed his sheets 5 times because he soaked through his diaper (which I finally realized was because I bought training dipes instead of nighttime dipes. Darned if I make that idiotic mistake again!)
In the past week, he's also managed to unlearn both short & long vowels. This makes reading quite a hellacious little trek.
In the past week, he's also decided to inform us (via gagging at the table) that he no longer likes the same foods he used to. So the poor boy is eating a lot of toast with honey. He doesn't complain, but I feel like a terrible mother in not giving him the nourishment he needs.
It's just been so tough!
I actually found myself wondering why anyone ever has more than one kid, & I was serious! Isn't that just terrible??!! It is! I know it is!
I just wanna eat cake pops & homemade chocolate chip cookies while getting a mani/pedi from a mute Brad Pitt (as seen in Troy.)
Eeeeehhhhh......... never mind.
Mani/pedi from an sweet, elderly woman. After all, I do wanna feel free to eat my cake pops & choc chip cookies, & I just couldn't do that in front of a Brad Pitt.
Am I awful or what?
It's been such an internal struggle as I wrestle with my baby boys needs & my own fleshly wants & demands.
While I know these feelings are totally normal, it doesn't make them right or godly or any less sinful.
So for my little boy to sweetly say from the backseat of the car, "Mommy, thank you for making me your baby" spoke volumes to my wrestling heart. It spoke life, healing, & joy into my rough heart.
Those 8 little words reminded me of what is actually important.......... and it's not long vowels or soaked sheets or gagging at the dinner table. Those things are just distractions. That little boy's healing & wholeness & showing him how much Jesus loves him....... that's what it's all about!