I.A.M.

I have three beautiful children, each very unique. If one did not know them, it may be difficult to believe they have been raised in the same home from birth. They are 5, 3 1/2, and 2. (Yes, we whipped them out pretty fast...almost back-to-back.)

Iniabasi is our oldest, and is our great musician. He can hear a song or tune once or twice and repeat it about 70% of it. He's our sensitive music man. He is quite cautious about his actions and words and tends to say "sorry" often. He's our crier over the simple and the great. He doesn't like being on anyone's 'bad' side. He's our hugger, compliment giver, and smiler. One would hardly know, maybe unless he struggles with a word or two, that he's had a speech issue prior to this year. So, I can't help but melt and smile when he shares his beautiful message: "Jesus loves me, Mommy. Jesus loves all of us." Or says, "Mommy, we don't make noise. We are singing a Jesus song...not loud, because Daddy is sleeping. We are singing carefully."

Abasianam is our three-year-old rockstar. He loves to play the guitar and rock out on his brother's drum set. He's the smallest framed child, but in his mind, he's 8 feet tall and 375 lbs of solid muscle. He is a no-nonsense child. He is our toy police, Iniabasi's English teacher (constantly correcting his pronunciation, etc.), but a good helper. He is a tough little man with a hard exterior, but inside, he is a loving young man. He demands hugs and kisses from his parents, likes to ensure everyone is okay, but he does not mince words, like his mama. He can be heard saying things like, "Pray again, Iniabasi. I don't like that prayer!" Or, "Say, 'car', Iniabasi... c-a-r (sounding it out)...not 'ar'. Can you say 'car'? Say it!"

Then, there's our little diva, Mayomikun. She's our two-year-old with the sass of a sixteen-year-old. She's 70% chic chick, 30% tomboy. She does not like to get her hair combed or styled, but she does not shy from striking a pose if requested when she's all put together. Neither does she refrain from asking her brothers to check her out after her hair's been done, or if she has on a new outfit. When the tomboy in her comes out though, she can rough house with the boys like no other: wrestling, running all over the house, etc. She's a sweet heart though: very forgiving, kind, and doesn't like to see others sad or cry. Her squeal is the best. She can be heard, from time-to-time, running down the stairs after a nap squealing, "Daddy! Daddy! I sleeped!"

This is just a glimpse of my little people, giving an idea of who the joys of my life are and why I'm absolutely in love with being a mom.