But today, it made me think. I was watching my sweet Z-man, as his nose was dripping, his clothes were hanging off of him, his glasses needed to be pushed up and I thought, "gosh, what a sorry sight he is right now."
I have such a love and affection for him that it would never occur to me that his appearance or mannerisms might just irritate or bother someone else. He's my little boy. I adore him through and through.
Have you ever looked back at your elementary pictures and laughed at yourself? What was I thinking when I wore my hair like that? Or, goodness, did my mom really dress me in that kind of outfit?
Z man and Si guy playing the piano together.... see the joy on Si's face?!!! |
I'm pretty sure that my Z man might get a giggle or two over himself when he grows up and looks back. I love that child, he is his own breed. No one overly influences him into what he should wear or like. Right now, he is covered in camo from head to toe. He wears a big floppy hat and tells people its his safari hat. He is convinced he will be a hunter and a lego builder when he grows up. Z man is consumed with building anything! My child talks with a lisp, has a hard time looking at people when speaking and gets so nervous that he stutters. Oh, and he cracks under pressure and must be given only a few choices at a time. He still wants to marry me or at least live with me when he grows up.
Only a mother, can look straight past the snotty noses, the unkempt hair, the mouth full of missing and loose teeth and fall completely in love!
I know a 6 year old that thinks Z-man rocks! We all do. :)
ReplyDeleteWhen I look at my boys, the love that fills my heart causes me to think this must be a glimpse into how God views us...he looks past all the exterior stuff and sees what / who we really are. And then, He gushes with LOVE.
At 6 I was a little gal with pinstraight hair down past her waist. I loved wearing dresses everyday and was taking ballet for the first time for my posture (it was really fun too). My favorite toy was a well-loved stuffed bear that I named Barbara. Baby dolls were not my thing. At this age, I also remember being annoyed with my teacher for saying "a" with the long sound instead of the short sound. I thought my Mom should tell her the correct way to speak.
Okay...happy trail down memory lane...now I have to get going on my day!