I've started several new posts in the past week but can't seem to stay in one stream of thought long enough to finish up the drafts I've started about Elevation's 3rd Anniversary, the story of my good-Sharpie-fortune, or my lament about the time problem we're having in the evenings (as in, not enough of it!). Those posts will have to stay in the drafts folder for at least another day, but I'm desperate to have something other than my ode to the Electric Pencil Sharpener pop up when my page loads, so I'll just quickly share this ahhhhh moment.

Everyday, several times a day, Luke tells me, "I love you more than you love me," to which I always respond, "Impossible!" It's kind of our thing. I don't love the way it sounds when he says it in public because I'm afraid others may think my child doesn't feel loved, but I do think it sounds a little better than "I love you more than God" which was his long time phrase (in his attempt to describe his love for me as bigger than the biggest thing he knows). But somewhere between my "Impossible" and the brief explanation I always give about the depth of a mother's love being incomprehensible, he reached his hand up to my face, stared at me with those big blue eyes and said, "One day, you'll understand how much I love you."

Isn't that supposed to be my line?