Love.

Biblically speaking, Love is much more of an act than a feeling. It is so easy to say “I love you” to somebody, but it really is so much more difficult to SHOW “I love you” to very many people at all.

Today, I find myself struggling to show Love to, of all people, my two year old Goose.

According to Paul in 1 Corinthians, Love should be patient and kind. It is not proud or rude, nor is it self seeking. Love is not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs, and never fails.

Now, do I love my Goose? Absolutely without a doubt and with all my heart. I feel love for him more than I can find words to express. But do I actively show Love to Goose? Well, today I think I am doing a decent job, but I have to say I am working exceptionally hard to do so.

Let me just give you a little glimpse into a day in Benny's house when Goose decides to try on the full superhero suit for Toddler Man…

First, Goose wakes up in a delightful mood, full of vim and vinegar, ready to take on the world. He gleefully chants “MOMMY!” as Daddy carries him into our room while Girly Pie and I come to consciousness a few minutes before the sun actually rises. He kisses and hugs me and joyfully embraces his baby sister. He is all sunshine and roses.

Then, something goes wrong.

At some point between waking up and eating breakfast, the little imaginary devil on the toddler’s shoulder starts whispering in his ear, “Uh oh, you’ve been way too cute and sweet today. Better not let them get too comfortable. Time to step up the drama a bit there, Bucko.”

And it’s like a switch flips.

Suddenly, it’s a day full of tantrums, potty accidents (and the kid has been clean and dry for ages, it’s come out of left field this week!), destroying brothers’ property, crying and yelling, refusing to comply with basic household expectations, knock down drag out fits over the nap he so desperately needs (and this kid NEVER throws fits over sleep. He LOVES sleep!). He takes himself out of time outs, he rips off his nap diaper, he throws his body around in fits of rage that would be frightening if I’d not already had two boys come and go through the throes of twodom. I do not have the words to describe it, but if you’ve ever had a two year old with any sort of defiant temperament, well, I’m sure you have an idea of what I mean.

And it all seems to come from nowhere. He could just choose to be cute, happy and content. Many days, he does. But today, not so much.

It really is just all a bit difficult to handle even under the best of circumstances. But throw in a four month old who through no fault of her own has to be set down and left alone at times (she can only do that gracefully so many times in one morning), and two bigger boys who are (thank the Lord) being oh so patient and quietly enjoying a morning FULL of free time… and, well, sometimes the expectations of the act of Love just feel like a bit much.

But, as a mom who does dearly Loves her boy, I am pleased to be able to say that as I look over the list of God’s definition of Love, I do believe I have been able to show him the Love I feel, even today.

I see how hard it must be for him. He has to share his mom with three other people. He has to go to the bathroom where we tell him to, he must go to nap when I decide, he can’t play with all the toys he sees because many of them are not even his, he can’t even get my lap to himself most of the time because there is a new little baby in it. Some days he’s happy to just enjoy life and smile through it all. Other days, he has to rebel against the Powers That Be (namely Me, since Daddy still seems to walk on water to that boy…) to try and stake his claim as an independent person who surely does not need a Mommy to do anything for him.

It really must be hard to be two. I can see it in his face. I can see how hard it is for him to have so little control, especially when he loses it completely in one of his epic tantrums.

But I can see it most when he finally succumbs to peace, and I hear the quiet in his room where only moments before there was screaming. When I open the door, and instead of finding him pounding on it like he had been, I see him in his bed where he has tucked himself in as best as he could, and is now calmly waiting with his head on his pillow, his binky (our first binky boy… I know it needs to go, but neither he nor Mom and Dad are ready to give it up just yet…) planted in his sweet soft lips, his thick brown hair wet with sweat and pushed back off of his forehead. And as he looks up at me with his big, tired eyes, a little shudder in his breath from all the crying, I can see how much better he feels now, because I am there.

After all that, after all his hard earned misery and after all that he can throw at me in a morning, he knows that when I walk back into that room I still Love him.

And that is why I do what I do. That is why I hold back the frustration and why I try so very hard not to raise my voice. That is why I stay and why I make sure that even when they are behaving terribly, that I tell them that I love them. Why I show them that I Love them.

I grew up with one wonderful, loving father who was there for me no matter what. And I grew up without a mother, because she chose to leave when I was just Goose’s age. And no matter how much my dad loved me and no matter how great he was, I always doubted his love as a child. I always suspected if I could do something bad enough to make my mom go, than I could do something bad enough to make him leave, too.

Now of course as an adult I know that I did not drive my mom away. I can’t say I have a close relationship with her at this point, but I always knew her and she stayed in my life, and I know I would not be who I am today if she had not played her part in that. I know that God’s hand was in it all.

But this I know only in hindsight.

And as I look at my babies, my four beautiful gifts from God, I know that I never, EVER want them to wonder if they might be able to do something “bad” enough that I might stop loving them.

So after his little soul had come back to peace and he was no longer fighting against the simple realities of life, Goose lay there in his bed looking up at me, wondering just what it was I might do. There are, after all, consequences in our house when you do things wrong. And I know he wondered if he was in trouble for losing control the way he did. He wondered what would happen when I saw the nap diaper he’d defiantly ripped off and thrown to the floor.

And of course, because I am his mom, and because I Love him, I did what any Loving mom would do. I smiled at him with eyes that were full of my Love, and I gently wiped the sweat off of his brow. I kissed his face in the little game we play (I’m going to kiss your… eyes! I’m going to kiss your… nose!). I told him how much I loved him and how I knew it was hard for him. I put his diaper back on (and he did not fight me this time) and I tucked him in right. I turned on his music and snuggled him up with his Blankie. I got him a sip of water and kissed him a few more times, and I gave him a really long hug, soft but sure, so he’d know how much I meant it (but wouldn’t feel confined, heaven forbid!) and I told him again that I Loved him.

And when I left his room, he was calm and at peace. And I know that he knew he was Loved.

And the coolest part? The coolest part is that THAT is how God loves US! No matter how "bad" we are, no matter how much we mess things up. That is the missing part of the puzzle that I did not have as a child when I wondered if my dad might go too. That unconditional love, the Love that not even all moms have for their own babies even when you think every mom should, that Love that never leaves, never fails, never ever falters even a little bit. I am glad that I can give my children just a taste of that now when they are young, just like my dad did with me when I was little. And I pray that as they grow, they do know God’s Love that way, too. I hope they can see God’s Love in their dad and in me. I hope they can pass it on to their own families someday.

And, to be honest, I just hope Goose is happy tomorrow. I can do this for days on end. But boy, is it tiring. I think we could both use a happy, smiley day full of hugs, games, smiles and laughing.

But, if not, I've got plenty more Love to give. Because I've been given so much Love myself.