It's Called Balance

I have a very sweet boy. I think I have mentioned here before about what an encourager he is. I love that about him. It's surprising how much I need those encouraging words from my own four year old.

Or maybe it isn't.

I guess I can be kind of needy sometimes.

Yesterday morning, after the kids woke up, they got to see some handy work from The Hubs and I the night before. We had The Girl stay the night in The Little Man's room (which was a big treat), so that we could re-paint her room.

(Remember how incredibly bored I have been this summer? Remember how I thought this summer would be the perfect time to redecorate the kids' rooms? You know, in all our down time?)

The Little Man was just beside himself with the transformation. Over and over again we heard, "Wow, you guys! This looks great!" and, "Good job Mom and Dad! You did some awesome work!". It was so nice to get that little pat on the back so early in the morning. I actually had to tell him that it was so nice of him to say such encouraging words, but enough already. I guess you could say I was starting to get a little embarrassed. I mean, we just slapped the paint on the wall, in literally, a couple of hours. It was nothing special.

Later that night, it was time to clean up. The Girl had a LARGE pile of stuff on the step. How she stepped right over it without even noticing it, is beyond me. I did call her back down to clean up, at which point her sweet brother said, "I'll come and help! It looks like you have a lot."

How sweet is that?

Sure enough, he loaded his arms as full as he could get them and headed back up the steps. That's when I noticed he forgot one of his own shirts. I said, "Oops! You forgot a shirt. Don't worry, I'll get it."

He replied with, "Thanks, Mom. I really needed the help. I appreciate you doing that for me."

Seriously.

This was coming from the same boy who, just mere hours before, threw a temper tantrum so loud, so wild, in the front yard of our home, for all the neighborhood to see, and had to physically be carried inside by his father. Why? He didn't want to ride his bike to get ice cream from the Sonic that is less than a quarter mile from our home. He wanted to drive instead. When we said that it was too nice of a day to drive and we should ride our bikes instead, he lost his mind for about a solid 45 minutes screaming over and over, "I WANT ICE CREAM!"

So, before you go get yourself all jealous and such( I imagined that last statement coming out with a Southern twang to it), just remember: When the pendulum swings high in one direction, it must go back in the other direction. (Insert Southern twang again) (Or not.)