I say this to my kids at least twenty times a day. I know, I should know by now that they are serious or at least completely oblivious as to why I would even question their behavior, yet I can’t stop myself from asking it. Are you serious?
It’s just that I distinctly remember telling them not to make a mess and then I walk into their room from doing dishes and they are literally covered from head to toe in stickers…. ARE YOU SERIOUS!? What? We didn’t get any on the floor. Touché kid. I will be looking my daughter directly in her big brown eyes and tell her to calm down, to which she will respond by being the motor for a toy car that apparently needs a trip across my face and through my hair.
Then there are the times I am driving down the road and they want to bicker over the most minuscule thing in the universe. What could that be you ask? Don’t look out my window! Sweet mercy. Then I shake my head, say a small prayer, and turn the volume up a little to the radio.
As crazy as they drive me in those moments, they certainly make up for it in spades. Fiona likes to pet my face when I hold her. (She also likes to be petted and will dictate exactly where and how she wishes to be petted!) Seriously though, she looks at me with those same defiant big brown eyes and all I see is the most serious and precious love I have ever known. Grayson gives these long hugs that warm me to my core despite how cold it might be outside. He wants nothing more than to make anyone who is sad happy and he takes that job as seriously as he does monitoring his car window.
I am so glad that for every are you serious moment that makes my close my eyes and ask God to give me strength, there is also a moment that makes my eyes tear up and tell God thank you for my little button pushers.