Boy of My Dreams

I can't wait to meet my boy- the boy of my dreams. The dirt tracking, sound effect making (you know, when more spit comes out than sound), rain boot wearing, spitty open mouth kissing boy of my dreams.

I hope he loves to ski with his Daddy. In my dreams, he loves to ski. But he also loves to snuggle up with me, to watch Charlie Brown.

I hope he loves to play- especially with toys that don't have an on/off button. In my dreams he has a wild imagination- much like his cousin Michael. I hope he loves to play.

I hope he gets dirty. In my dreams I have an inner battle between loving his squeals of joy squeezing the mud through his fingers, and wanting to chase him around with a wet rag. I hope I do more watching, and less chasing.

I hope he reads- I hope he never stops loving to read. In my dreams, he has so many books- board books, hard cover books, boxcar children books, hardy boy books. I want him to know about all of the worlds he can escape to through books.

I hope my boy knows Jesus Christ. In my dreams, he knows Jesus is his brother. His knowledge makes him strong- a force to be reckoned with.

In my dreams, my boy loves to laugh. I hope he laughs his way through life, through success and failures alike.

I hope my boy is kind. I hope he takes after his Daddy that way- tender hearted to everyone he meets. I hope his kindness lights up a room.

Most of all- my boy is loved. Totally and completely, way too much, loved. In my dreams, and in real life, my boy is loved. I hope he is always greeted with smiles, warmth, and hugs. I hope he feels that love, all of the time. Even when he makes a mistake- my boy is completely loved by his Mom and Dad.