I'll tell you why--as honestly as I can without making this little story, this little tribute to my baby sound too mean. Because that's not how I intend it to sound. I just want there to be an explanation of sorts.
When my youngest son was 5 months old he threw a full-fledged temper tantrum. Most people don't believe me, however, those that knew him (my son) as a baby might be believers. They just might be. The tantrum came about quite innocently. He had a poopy diaper, I picked him up while he was playing contently with his toys and that's when all you know what broke loose. As I laid him down on his diaper changer he proceeded to buck his little baby hips like a horse, he was trying to throw himself off that changer as hard as he could. I had to hold him down with one arm while trying to change his diaper with the other--thank God they were the disposable type or he would have ended up safety pinned to said diaper. When I was finished he stopped crying, and smiled at me--as if to say can I get down and play now?
And thus began the next 3 decades in dealing with my youngest son. Contrary to popular belief, he was not that easy to raise. Oh, we had our good moments too--when he was sleeping. He looked like such an angel. But, when he woke up--everybody woke up and the day began with a bang. He tried from the get-go to rule the house. From being bossy to his siblings to thinking he could pull the wool over my eyes. He fooled his dad most of the time, but he never fooled me. I can remember telling him many times--only one of us is going to win this fight, and I guarantee you, it won't be you. He'd just stare up at me with those big brown baby eyes and say--uh ha. He was determined to win. But, he never did. Not with me anyway.
I don't want to make it sound all bad while raising this little one. It wasn't, not at all. He was pure free entertainment for our family. His favorite line was--you love me best because I'm the cutest and the funniest, uh mommy? And then he'd bat his eyes. What do you say to that? Yes, he was a cutie all right, he was smart and funny and oh so cute. He has my coloring (brown eyes, darker skin), but he has his dad's looks. In fact, we call him mini-me after his dad. They look, stand, and even gesture alike. It's bizarre, to say the least. He has movie star good looks and a beautiful smile.
While raising him, his dad and I had a secret saying--he's either going to be a missionary or a mercenary when he grows up. We prayed for the former. We prayed hard. I never let up on him. I never gave up. I disciplined and loved and nurtured him very consistently, no matter the immediate results. And it paid off. This son of mine, of ours, is a real treasure. He is the one who had to learn the hard way, his way, but once the lesson was learned he had it down pat. He learned how to trust and obey God, he learned how to be a good husband, and also a good father. I have no worries now. Now. I did way back then. That's why I prayed so much! But now? I see that our hard work, our praying, our consistency paid off. The Bible says--train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. I trusted in that. I believed in what the Bible said. And the results are--a wonderful son, whom I love very much, whom I am so proud of and who serves a mighty God. He might not be a missionary by trade, but he sure is one is his heart of hearts.
So why did I stop at 3 kids? I guess you would have had to have been there.
Happy birthday to my baby boy, my youngest son, my greatest accomplishment. I hope that he can see me smiling and shedding a tear or two as I write this blog. Your mom loves you so very much.
 |
| my son with his son |
No comments:
Post a Comment