High (Calculated) Praise

A week or so ago, we were standing in the master bath, getting ready to head out the door for some such errand when Chica just gazed up at me with her big, brown eyes full of sincerity, cocked her little head, and said, "Mama, you're the best mommy ever." 

And I melted into a puddle of my-heart-is-bursting goo.

And then I died.

Of love.

It was so out-of-the-blue and so sweet that it just filled me up with the best mix of joy and gratitude.

Only problem--I think she could tell just how much I liked hearing it, and being the smart little whipper-snapper that she is, she quickly learned to weaponize the phrase.

Like when she knows I'm frustrated with her, or I've given her a few behavioral warnings and she's on the cusp of officially being a Bad Girl, she'll bust it out and lay it on real thick. Ha.

Oh well. 

Can't blame a girl for using her head.

I'll just have to work extra hard to preserve the original, pure delivery in my memory.

Love my girlies. And can't wait to love on my Baby Boy when he makes an appearance, though no signs of that yet.

We've nearly made it through the week with just our one, bad day on Tuesday, so I'm grateful for that. And I'm also grateful for a lovely midday visit with some girlfriends I haven't seen in awhile.

Happy Thursday, peeps!