Gabriel at nine

(I pulled it together. Thank you, bless you for your kindness.)

“It’s been scientifically proven,” Gabe informed me, “that everyone looks cuter in pajamas.”

And really, how can I argue with that?

At nine, Gabe hasn’t lost a morsel of the sweetness and innocence that has always defined him. There’s nothing ‘cool’ about my smallest boy– he has no interest in fitting in with the crowd– his hours are spent with books and Legos, writing and illustrating stories of his own.

At Gabe’s first newborn check-up, our pediatrician told me, “Ah, the fifth child is the smile baby. God knows that you need a child who absolutely and unreservedly adores you.”

And Gabriel is just that. A day never passes without his arms flung around my waist, “You’re the best mommy in the whole world. Why are you so wonderful?”

If I have a bad hair day or complain that my jeans are too tight- “But you’re beautiful mommy. You’re the prettiest mommy in the world.”

Every time he leaves the house I receive a rib-crushing hug and a kiss on the lips; it’s especially nice when forgets something (or several things) and I receive the same sweet farewell several times in a row.

And every morning, every night, I thank God in His heaven for this sweet boy (and his siblings too).