My 4-year-old was playing in the bathtub as I sat on the floor next to him working on my laptop (brave, I know). Out of nowhere, he asked me, “Mama—why do you love me so much?”

Caught off-guard, I repeated the question to him. “You were wondering why I love you so much?” I asked him with a smile.

Well, you’re ridiculously funny. Like how you dramatically clear your throat when you want attention because you know you’re not supposed to interrupt. I’m pretty sure nothing makes you happier than making other people laugh.

RELATED: Dear Son, I Am So Proud of You

You’re the best compliment-giver. You tell me I’m beautiful whether I’m dressed up for church or in two-day-old pajamas. You’ve graciously granted me the title of “best bed-maker in the whole world” on more than one occasion.

You’re a deep-thinker and an even deeper feeler.

You worry about people. You notice every homeless person we drive by and insist we stop and buy them food. Every time we say grace, you pray for God to build them houses so they don’t have to be homeless anymore.

You’re an incredible big brother, like how you wipe your little sister’s runny nose without being asked and always hold her hand when we cross the street. Have you ever noticed how her face lights up when you tell her how cute she looks in her favorite tutu?

You’re a rule-follower. You hate getting in trouble—in fact, you’re the self-appointed bad-word police of the family. But even still, you have the stubbornness of a true renegade. There’s a twinkle in your eye—a spark of sorts, and I promise to never put it out.

You’re beautiful in every sense of the word, my love.

I know with my whole heart that you are going to do big, big things—like change-the-world big things.

RELATED: I’m Raising My Sons To Be Men

And these are just some of the reasons why you might think I love you so much. But honestly, none of those matter, my sweet boy, because there’s only one reason why.

It’s not for the things you say, or do, or accomplish. None of that matters, really.

I love you so much because you exist, because you are you, because you are mine.

Originally published on the author’s blog

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Alyse Bressner

City girl turned farm wife & small town mama, anxiously and faithfully stumbling through life, marriage, and motherhood one word at a time.

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