I love you, my son. I love you so much. You are a quick learner and take pride in accomplishing new things. You are a natural at sports and persevere at them. You are handsome and enjoy surprising me with the outfits you choose. You are progressing so much in your speech and taking direction in that area very well. You love long showers and call yourself a "water-hog". You are a great helper and are independent at unloading the kids' dishes and all the cutlery from the dishwasher as well as putting away your own clean laundry. You are a collector, filling your pockets with treasure and storing it in your bed. You are organized and like to keep like things together, but ensure your favourites in a separate place so as not to get mixed up. You are sensitive and still can't handle a movie or TV show with an antagonist. Your love language is touch and you crave cuddles when you are sad and back rubs when you are tired. You are social an often will go get your clothes to come change wherever someone else is because you "need company". You are aware of so much and are constantly asking questions to figure out what's going on or how something works. You are lovey-dovey with your brothers, often catching Emerson in a head-lock-hug as he runs by or kissing Lachlan on the cheek as you play. You are goofy and enjoy a good bout of silly dancing. You are active, especially when it comes to wrestling and acrobatics. You love stories, often choosing new or rarely-read books before bedtime. You are a blessing to me every day.
I'm sorry, my son. I am so sorry that we are struggling. You read the frustration in my face far too quickly for my liking. You hear my "rude voice" too many times a day. You notice my sighs and my exhaustion. And for that I am sorry.
Because I love you.
I really do love you.
I want you to notice that 47 times more often than you notice that I am frustrated with you.
I really do love you.
Lord, remind me of the perspective of this moment in the moments where it is lacking.
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