Of Passing It On

It would appear I am not the only one in this house with a renewed sense of gratitude. 

Micaiah's newest thing is graciousness.  It feels as though every time I am turning around I'm hearing the words, "Thank you, Mommy" coming out of her mouth.

And it's kind of a nice change.


"Thank you, Mommy, my animal crackers."


"Thank you, Mommy, say my chicken."  (This was after I was corrected because I said she liked her green beans and her mashed potatoes, when really it was the chicken and potatoes she loved.  But she, clearly, appreciated my retraction.)


"Thank you, Mommy, my blanket."


And the other day, I heard both of the following, "Thank you, Mommy, yelling me." and "Thank you, Mommy, my time-out."  Now, I'm really not sure how to take those, so I'll pretend that she understands the greater good of the discipline which is bestowed upon her and the great difficulty I bear in doling it out.  And she clearly appreciates the pain I endure to raise her up in the way she should go.

Let me just have my moment, won't you?