Forgiveness

I would be a big fat liar, and not a convincing one, if I said that I didn't occasionally yell at the boys. I don't like it, and I try not to, but it still happens. So Vince and I butted heads a lot this weekend. It was pretty much the worst Mother's Day ever. After one particularly heated disagreement, I was telling Vince that it's not okay to be disrespectful to mommy, and he said, "Mommy, I don't like it when you're angry with me." I said something like, "I know honey, I'm sorry I got frustrated and yelled." He said, "Mommy...we should pray together."

And as I listened to my not-quite-four-year-old pray for Jesus to forgive us and to help us be "kindly" to each other, my heart melted a little ... or a lot.

Tonight he came out of his room to have one last hug and kiss, he looked at me meaningfully and said, "Mommy, you the great mommy ever." I can't help but think he's confused about what that means, but it's heart warming to think that Vincent's love for me is unconditional, just as mine is for him.