Not enough boys

I think Landon is having a hard time being the only boy in a house full of women this week. Daddy is in Hawaii and Hayden ("Bubba," as Landon calls him) is at Granna and Pawpaw's all week, so little Landon is trying his hardest to single-handedly replenish the testosterone temporarily absent due to Daddy and Bubba's travels.

I knew he needed to get out of the house some today so we all went to pick up some school supplies. He ran from one end of the store to the other but no real damage was done so I reluctantly agreed to one more stop.

At the next store he ran, yelled, screamed, hollered, and sang at the top of his lungs. He chose to serenade the other customers and employees with a song that involves the loud screetching chorus of "JESUS! JESUS!" No, he wasn't reading my mind as I asked for divine assistance. Unfortunately, those are the only words he could remember from the "Jesus Loves Me" song, a sweet melody when sung by any other child.

He finally talked Keaton into pushing him around in a store buggy. It started innocently enough but soon escalated into his loud demands of "No! Stop! KEEKON! That way! More! More!"

We gave up, came home and had a guest drop by. Miranda, a dear friend who I hope will be gentle if she ever shares her Landon-encounter from today, was exposed to the epitome of a two year old in desperate need of a nap. He was loud, took every one of Keaton's new birthday items as his own, screamed if she dare try and retrieve them, jumped on Reagan's head, rolled over on her attempting to wrestle, and tooted so loud repeatedly that we were all embarrassed. He thought it was oh so funny.

After Miranda left (she was gracious and didn't run to the door or speed out of the drive) Landon slept for three hours. When he awoke he began all over again, each of us taking turns at trying to keep him happy. He wanted to color but ended up pouring a whole bottle of glue on the counter. We chased him after he absconded with markers and headed to my furniture. He giggled, we panted. He pooped, I attempted to clean him up but he wasn't happy with what was on TV so he wiggled, laughing as I attempted to keep us both clean. He wanted three different snacks and four cups of milk. Oh, and gum was on the list after he had exhausted all other snack options.

At 8:00 he came and sat in my lap. He snuggled and smiled and told me he loved me. He humbled me and reminded me of how thankful I am for such a wonderful gift. Thank you God for my healthy little boy who can run and sing, who enjoys playing with his sisters, who is bright and lively. Thank you God for my little one whom I can kiss and cuddle and tickle until he can't breathe. Thank you God for my little boy who, even when he smells like a wet puppy, smells so sweet that I savor the fragrance long after he walks away. Thank you God for this precious boy who misses his Daddy and his Bubba and doesn't know how to tell me. He makes me smile a million times a day, yet thinking of my feelings for him makes me cry as I type this.

Motherhood is a blessing; a frustrating, difficult, demanding job I couldn't love more.