Thursday, March 31, 2011

sweet boys

I will be absolutely shocked if Jonah doesn't pursue music as he gets older; the boy is constantly singing and playing instruments.  I would've given anything to have been videotaping him the other day.  I was in the dining room cleaning up and Jonah had gotten out his guitar and was playing on the couch.  I heard him singing the song "All in All", only these were his modified lyrics:

Jesus, Lamb of God,
Wormy is your name.

It's supposed to be "worthy", but I'm sure Jesus was still happy.  This was the very same jam session that Jonah began by saying into his "microphone" (which is an old car charger cord for a phone), completely to himself while I was in another room, "OK, let's pray.  Jesus, help me play music. Aaaaaaa-men."  To my knowledge, this is Jonah's first self-motivated prayer and I will never forget it.  Like I said, I think this kid will be playing music for a long time.  I can just see him saying that very same prayer 20 years from now, only with a real microphone, and standing in front of his church family.  We'll see.  It's fun to dream about what God will do with my boys.  Of course, if I'm only judging this based on what comes out of my son's mouth nowadays, there are still many other possibilities.  I mean, this is the same boy who draped a throw blanket around his shoulders a couple days ago and paraded into the kitchen while I was cooking supper and said, "Look Mommy!  I'm a queen and this is my dress!"  His daddy was really happy about that one.  God, I know I say that I want you to use my boys however would best honor you, but if I get a vote, I choose worship leader over queen.  Amen.

Oh, my boys.  I love typing that little phrase.  My boys.  It is so sweet to be a mom to two little boys.  I have nothing to compare it to, since I don't have a daughter, but I think boys are something special to a mommy.  They just melt my heart.  Today I was changing Caleb's diaper and he gave me the biggest grin (like he knew I needed some cheering on) and I just could've burst.  You know you're in love when you can burst with happiness while cleaning up poop.  I used to ask my mom how you ever can love another child as much as you love your first, and now that question seems so stupid.  Somehow, some way, I love this little sweetie just like I love my big sweetie.

Speaking of sweeties, my Main Sweetie's birthday was yesterday.  (That would be my husband, in case you're having a hard time keeping track of all the sweeties.)  To celebrate, we went to see Bill Cosby in Muncie last Saturday for our first date night since Caleb's birth.  It was so great, spending time together as a couple.  I have really missed Daniel in a way.  Obviously we're together all the time, but the demands of a new baby on top of a 2-year old have left us with scarce quality time.  Saturday we sat and talked at dinner for a long time and I was reminded just how fortunate I am to be married to him.  I really hit the husband lottery.  After 2 kids and almost 7 years of marriage, I can sincerely say that we are closer than ever and that I am still crazy about this man.  Ironically, that night listening to Bill Cosby, he made a lot of jokes about marriage, and while I laughed at them, I have thought about some of the cliches he used.  He joked about how once kids come along, the husband is kinda pushed to the side and forgotten.  You know, that really has never been us.  Daniel is, and always will be, my greatest (earthly) love.  My children are more dear to me than I can describe, but Daniel has first place in my heart.  He is my best friend and my perfect partner.  He is the kind of man that I hope my sons become.  I trust him and respect him more than anyone I know.  A long time ago, I told one of the teens in my youth group that marrying Daniel was the best decision I ever made, and I believe that more and more the longer we are married.  So happy birthday to you, sweet husband.  Thank you for being in my life and for making my life so good.  Wow, my blessings are stacked high.  Makes it really hard to complain about how little sleep I'm getting when I think about how good I really have it.


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