Papa

We've been watching a lot of reality TV on instant netflix lately. Things like American Pickers, Clean House, and Take Home Chef. Our latest is Nanny 911. Overall my kids are appalled at the naughty stuff those little TV terrors do to their parents and then we all cry at the end when everything is made right. But with Gabriel, the baby in the family...the kid I was a little lazier with...there are a few points that I can see resonate with him just a bit.

Gabriel barely sleeps in his bedroom now that he has his own room. He'll sleep in the hallway OUTSIDE his bedroom or he'll wind up on the love seat in my bedroom. It was cute for a while but now...not so much. And it drives me crazy but I'm OLD and TIRED now and too LAZY to push it. Hey, I can admit it. So after a few episodes last night....my resolve was strong....I decided I was going to insist that he sleep in his own bed that night.

And he did. No whining or complaining. He turned on some worship music, read a few books and was out like a light. Totally anti-climactic.

This morning I praised him up one side and down the other for what a good job he had done. He proudly grinned, showing his two big over sized grown-up teeth that I haven't quite got used to yet and said, "And you didn't have to all Nanny 911!"

"I don't need to call Nanny 911, I just call Jesus. He knows us better anyway."

And then that adorable little kid said something that took me so many years for me to truly understand myself.

"Yeah," he says, "He's my papa."

Just like that. I love that he gets it so easily.