Sunday, December 30, 2012

My Sweet Boy

I am the mother of a boy.

A wiggly, never-stop-moving, incredibly sweet-with a touch of stubborn, fearless and almost too smart-for his-own good boy.

My boy is happy and he knows it, he favors his left hand while swinging his golf clubs and sleeps best with his pacifier and a warm bottle of milk.

He's my sweet boy.

I prayed for a boy.  I silently begged God for a boy because I knew deep down that I was created to be boy mom.

Girls are good and all, but I wanted a boy.

I like to run, I like to play hard and wrestle, but most of all I love the sweet snuggles little boys give their mamas. 

I have to pray for my boy because boy is he fearless. He creates the cadence and marches hard with quick steps to the beat of his own drum.  Falls, scrapes and busted lips don't faze him cause he's a shake it off and keep it moving kind of boy.  At this point they don't faze me either because I know that's my boy.

I love hard and my sweet boy is not exempt. 

To the moon and back, I tell him, that's how much I love him.  But that doesn't describe my love for him.  I love him to my core.  That big black pit deep within my belly where he was planted as a seed and grew into a little boy...that's where my  love for him comes from.

He's my boy on loan. He was birthed by me, but he belongs to God.

I am good for him and he's good for me.

He's my boy. The boy who made me a boy mom.

He's my sweet boy.