I know, I know . . .

I do have the tendency to be one of "those moms". You know the ones. Those annoying broads who constantly brag about how cute their kid is. When someone comments on how beautiful Presley is, I'll unabashedly reply with a, "Yes, thank you so much. I know he is." Because he IS. Not that cute-cuz'-he's-a-kid beautiful, either. Nope. I know this boy is classically, heartbreakingly beautiful. As I type this, I literally have tears in my eyes because he is just so profound, I can hardly believe I had anything to do with his creation. I just tucked him into bed after a long afternoon in the pool, and he's bleary-eyed and sunny and so tuckered out. As I kissed him goodnight, I was overtaken with his complete and utter perfection. It made me laugh at myself for my earlier complaints today of corporate woes, sleeplessness, and annoying neighbors. They really, truly, do not matter. At the end of the day, this sweet little boy squeezes me around the neck as tight as he can, kisses my cheek, and says, "I love you, mama." I'm his mama. And I am so, so blessed.