My Max...my only son...my oldest...so sweet...he loves his momma so and I hope that never changes.
Our days go pretty well until clean-up time comes around. My kids HATE cleaning up...unless of course there is some grand prize at the end of the "clean up what you destroyed" tunnel. Today was no different.
Max had taken Maggie's big pink bucket of toys and dumped it out. He laughed. I told him it was indeed funny, but that he would be picking all of those toys up and putting them back into the big pink bucket.
He didn't do it. He didn't do it. He didn't do it.
So....
I yelled.
He cried.
I felt awful and went back into my room so that he wouldn't see me feeling awful.
I went to work on cleaning up my room in the hopes that the children would see this as some kind of race against mom.
I went to make my bed and as I pulled off the pillows I found this:
I saw him draw that earlier in the day way before any of the yelling had taken place.
I called him into my room and with tears still rolling down his cheeks he crawled up on my lap.
"When did you make this for me?"
"Today when you were eating lunch. Then I came and put it under your pillow."
Tears for me. Did he know that that was going to happen and that he could make me 100 times more guilty if he planted a sweet picture like that right were I would find it at the exact time I would yell at him???
I got hugs and kisses and a picture that I will keep forever.
How blessed I am!
Oops! Forgot one more story...
The Tuesday before Thanksgiving we rented Santa Buddies. (Our kids LOVE those "Buddies" movies.)
Of course, it was all about the spirit of Christmas and believeing.
At the part where the Scrooge character begins having second thoughts about Christmas, Max turns to me and says,
"Momma, I think he is starting to figure out the true spirit of Christmas."
If only we all believed like the children.
