Children. Their sins are so easy to spot. I see him reaching for a Q-tip. I tell him “no.” He grabs the Q-tip and runs away from me, like the dickens, to the living room where his father is. I tell My Hubby, “He has a Q-tip and he’s running towards you.”

The child lives in a house with 3 people. He knows we’re all here. He knows we can all see him. He knows we communicate with one another. He knows, if nothing else, from experience, that he cannot escape his parents. He knows we stop him when he disobeys. He knows we correct his actions when he disobeys. Yet he disobeys, with vigor, as if we will not know, as if we will not see, as if we will not act, as if there will be no consequences . . .

And that is me . . . though perhaps more sophisticated . . . I sin before my Creator, Lord God Almighty, as if I do not know He is here; as if I do not think He can see me; as if I do not know that I cannot escape God; as if I do not know that God thwarts wickedness; as if I do not know that God will, because I belong to him and bear his mark, correct my actions when I disobey. Yet I disobey, with vigor, as if God will not know, as if God will not see, as if God will not act, and as if there will be no consequences . . .

I am so child-like. I just wish it were in the way of which God speaks favorably. Matthew 18:1-6.

That Baby Boy (he hasn’t quite gotten rid of the nickname, yet)! I am convinced he’s got a James Dean thing goin’ on!

To begin, let me emphasize the fact that the boy is persistent. He is continually testing to see if something is still forbidden (despite the fact that I have told him “no” on numerous previous occasions).

Further, he’s got this rebel attitude to go along with his actual rebellion. Let me illumine your minds with an example: As soon as The Boy is caught holding something he should not have, he looks at me, bright-eyed, like the proverbial deer in the headlights, drops it, then walks towards me, as if nothing has happened, and smiles at me with this huge, winsome, and, if I am being honest, irresistible grin on his shiny, ruddy little face. And of course, his beautiful blue eyes are twinkling at me the whole time!

He is such a stinker!

And soooo cute . . . that it is very hard to correct him!

In fact, when I was walking into the den the other day, he had gotten a hold of the remote control (one of those forbidden items he just can’t seem to resist). He was standing directly in front of the TV and was just pushing buttons like a mad man. When he realized that he was changing the channels, he started laughing hysterically – like a villain who thought he had just conquered the world. I must confess that I could not immediately correct him! It was all I could do to walk out of the room undetected so I could laugh, without encouraging this incorrigible little boy!

However, after regaining her composure, SuperMom returned to the den and restored world order - much to the shock and dismay of our favorite superhero-in-training.

As set forth below and as stated previously, Baby Boy loves to stare.

And I took “da chilrens” to the Library this week, and Baby Boy was lounging in his stroller while Sissy and I colored (yeah, we color and play at the Library — because we read at home!). There was a man sitting in a chair right next to Baby Boy and Baby Boy just stared at him – no blinking, no smiling, just unadulterated staring. The man repeatedly looked at Baby Boy, and then each time, would turn just a little further away from Baby Boy. I think Baby Boy intimidated him! What a little man! Only 7 months old and he’s scaring away strange men from his Sissy and Mama. I pity the suitor interested in Sissy – if he makes it through Daddy!

Today, Baby Boy had his 6 months-old picture taken (at 7 months . . . I am always running late). He was such a handsome little man! They even called him Superman! Without any encouragement from me! This made me happy, for reasons previously provided.

He was so handsome! Who made that baby?!? (Okay, God made all things — but who did God make to make that Baby — yeah, that’s right: ME! I was the secondary means! Ain’t bad for a sinner, huh?). I anticipate modeling agencies contacting me shortly wanting to discuss his career. He has such a . . . Euro-nique look — just like his Daddy (who also received certain proposals for the aforesaid vocation). My men are SOOOOO CUTE!!!

In any event, he was precious, and Sissy even jumped in occasionally — but only when she was not expected. As soon as she was invited to get into the pic, she would oh-so politely say “Um . . . no tanks.” She is quite a little lady, but a little reserved, to say the least. I had to use a little trickeration to get her into the pic. For example, I asked her to fix Baby Boy’s hair. She gladly agreed and quickly and cheerfully went to Baby Boy, gently and lovingly stroked his light, fine hair with her petite hand, and then just as quickly, returned to her little seat by me. She has such a demure, solemn look and demeanor . . . it is truly striking. Absolutely beautiful.

Funny enough, they are both afraid of the same woman. She tries to be real friendly to them, to please them, to make them laugh, etc. But Sissy, at this age, recoils in fear as if encountering something evil and runs towards me. And Baby Boy’s little bottom lip just quivers and begins to swell into this huge protruding mass atop his chin, his eyes turn bright pink as the tears well up on the verge of rolling down his plump red cheeks, and he starts turning his head frantically looking for his mama. It’s just so sad! And so precious! And makes me so happy!

I am persuaded that we should have called Baby Boy, “Baby Bird.” He constantly has his little mouth completely wide open, just like a little robin. I am further convinced that he is “hungry for kisses,” and therefore, just kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss that little man-child of mine! He just eats that up.

In any event, having absolutely no talent for writing poetry, I like to do it. Here is my latest:

Look at me, Daddy, look and see!
My mouth is wide open — as wide as can be!
I’m walking around with my mouth open wide –
I’m not really sure what’s going inside!

*curtseying* Thank you very much.

My cute hubby was one day observing the wonders of our Baby Boy. He described how he loved how Baby Boy just stared deep into his eyes, looking so interestedly at him, so lovingly towards him, just looking and looking and looking, with no awkwardness. I thought that was exceedingly sweet and precious, so I looked at my hubby in just the way he described, and he turned to me and said “What are you doing?!? – That’s just creepy!!!”

I only dress my son in Superman colors . . . unless I am behind on laundry (which, I think, shows that I am not obsessive/compulsive, or for you more concerned readers, I am not insane (this is joy in vanity not insanity!)). If it is any consolation, he looks great in Red and Blue. And he likes to fly (at this time, however, only with assistance of his mother or father). And his name means Hero of God. And we (my cute and wonderful husband and I) intend to instill in him a love for truth, wisdom, justice and mercy.

There. That substantiates my actions.

I also buy sippy cups in Red and Blue. But, if you have a young child, you understand that a sippy cup is basically an accessory anyway!

In any event, my “True Confessions” (say that in a whisper, it sounds more exciting) must come to an end as my little Kal-El needs tending to!