Last night, in the midst of a parenting crisis of mine (Zac being out of town, realizing Abigail had left about half of her homework assignments at school, Samuel and Elisabeth insisting on running around the house shutting off all the lights and throwing things at each other, and me very quickly losing all of my patience, etc. etc. etc), Isaac came and found me where I hid for a moment in my room, and handed me this note.
I love you so much and I love that you feed us good foods and once in a while let us get treats. I'm glad that you're my mom Mommy I love you.
(and don't forget: make hot cocoa)
(can you make something delicious today?)
It was very very sweet. I think he could tell I was on the brink of losing it big time. But then, also, did you notice that even after such sweet words of love, he was still making more requests of me?
I suppose he couldn't help himself.
I'm still the mom, after all.