June 24, 2016

Seven years of Brave-ry

He tells me almost every day, "You're the BEST mama." I smile and kiss the dimple in his left cheek, or bury my face in his thick brown hair, or look into his puppy-dog eyes the color of wet stones, and I say, "You are the BEST Brave Ransom."

I love my third son. His butter-toned skin is always soft, like his dad's. His big hands are strong for a kid, so that he gives better back rubs than his dad. His favorite five things on this planet are his parents and siblings. He really would rather that I never be out of sight. Daddy has super powers, as far as he's concerned. Math and music are his strengths in school, while running and pummeling are his strengths outside. He is big-hearted, big-boned, and a huge goofball.

He makes decisions quickly and with conviction. He protects people, especially his beloved "twin" sister Jubilee. He watches the faces of those around him, looking for signs of happiness. Then he breaks into a dimpled grin when he sees it.

Seven years ago this month, Brave came into the world, quickly and with conviction. I thank G0D for blessing my life with Brave-ry.

His brothers stayed up late the night before his birthday, adding reptile scales to the "7" on his poster.

Little Rupps looking on as presents are opened on Brave's birthday morning. All eight bare feet on a single bench...be still my heart.

Reading the back of the box is seeeerious business.

Zion is pumped about this particular gift (I think it adds to a collection of some sort).

Siting-in the new gun.

And then there was the night-swimming birthday party in the neighborhood pool, complete with water-squirter party-favors, glow sticks, and cupcakes. Look at Brave's guns! And I don't mean the water gun, either. 

Standing behind his left shoulder is his best friend Zeb. Gotta mention Zeb.

Happy 7th birthday, Handsome Brave Ransom!