My Oldest

My oldest, I adore him. He is sweet and passionate and overflowing with kindness. And I really adore my talks with him. I wait, anxiously anticipating what he'll say next.

Like...

"Mama, I can't wear that shirt today because it's just too sleeve-y." (I have no earthly idea what that means.)

From the back seat of the car...

"Oh, my gosh Mama, look, look! I have hair growing on my big toe. I'm almost a Daddy now!"

After I handed him a pair of boxer briefs to put on...

"Mama, I don't want to wear no long sleeve underwear today!" (In other words, he preferred standard briefs that day.)

While drifting off to sleep, he sat up, glared at me and said, "Mama, you know why I love you so much?

"Why, honey?"

"Cause you're just so soft. So soft. I just love you."

"Mama, I'll be back in just one minute. I have to go to China."

"Mama, I can spell my name. S-A-M."

Shocked (and feeling terrible because I haven't even thought that it may be time to teach him to spell his name) I gasped and said, "Sam! How did you learn to spell your name? That is so excellent!"

"I don't know, Mama. I just knowed how."

"Well, you sure are smart. How did you get to be so smart?"

"Mama, that's just how God made me."

After a night of getting in trouble over and over (which is very rare) and a few spankings, I tried to reason with him.  I explained why it is important for him to listen to us and that we love him and expect him to obey us.  He said, "Okay, Mommy.  I know.  I know.  But, (holding up five fingers) you really only need to spank me one time, not all these times, over and over.  Okay?"

"Hey, Mama.  I don't want to be Sam anymore.  I want to named Abba."

"Abba, honey?  Really?"

"Yes, Abba?"

Tonight we picked him up after Bible study and he came up to me and said, "Mama, all these people are still calling me Sam and my name is Abba.  Tell them my name is Abba."

Man, I love him.  A lot.