one-of-a-kind

At work, in my group about self-esteem, I teach the kids the word, "unique". I tell them, unique means that you are very special; there is no one else in the world like you; you are one-of-a-kind. And never is that so true as with my own two children. As sweet, serious, and sensitive as Will generally is, Ben is often his exact opposite. We adore them both. But Jim and I were both more of the sweet, quiet, obedient type, so this noncompliance thing is a bit foreign to us. We're constantly cracking up at Ben and the things he does and says because it's just so...well, Ben. I can't describe him without somehow always sounding negative about him--and yet, I adore him. He really is hilarious, often without intending to be. Today alone, he has: worn long, black soccer socks with built-in shin guards, his tennis shoes, underwear and a t-shirt to walk on the treadmill (that's right...no pants); stuck the water hose down his pants while playing in the yard with his brother (it was turned on); neglected to put his dinner plate by the kitchen sink despite telling him at least 10 times to do it (it's still there as I type); and agreed with a mischievious giggle in his voice to do the opposite of what we say almost every time we asked him to do something (i.e. "Ben, put your clothes in the hamper." "Mommy, I will not put my clothes in the hamper. giggle giggle" after which he proceeds to throw his clothes up in the air, catch them and put them in the hamper followed by another crinkled-nose giggle). And yet, he is the child who adores me right now, who cannot get enough of me, who wants me to watch his every move, sit by him at dinner, and sit on his bed at night as he falls asleep. He is a challenge, but he's also a joy. He's very active and loves to play fighting games with his toys, and yet, it melts my heart every time he sits in my lap, reaches one hand up, and wraps his arm around my neck to hang on tighter. He's his own person. He's one-of-a-kind. And I'm so thankful he's my son.