I love my cranky baby in the morning even though he pulls my hair and wails, fussy, fidgety.
I love his smile that sneaks past his facade and lights the morning.
I love his voice, expressing his frustration in a symphony of “da-da’s,” ba-ba-na’s and mum-num’s”
I love that I love him the same when he’s happy and that nothing will change the way I feel about him.
No amount of sickness, runny noses, goofy coughs, sore ears or crying will cause my love to waiver. In fact, they raise my compassion towards him.
He needs me and all I want to do is be there, to comfort him, to show him how loved he is
Even in the sadness and frustration. Even when he whines and screams and bites and kicks.
Love isn’t effected by such things, love endures all, forgives all, love never fails.
I love when he settles on my breast, leans close and lets go, drifting off to sleep reminding me of the dream that it is to be his mother.
And I realize that I am the child of a king and His love surpasses mine.
I’m so thankful that he too loves a cranky baby in the morning.