When you have nothing else to say, why not say, "I love you"? This is Graham's strategy. He tells me a thousand times a day that he loves me. He says it when he sees me as I walk into the room, he tells me when he says thank you, he tells me as I change his diaper, when I give him snacks, read him a book and especially when he is in trouble. And I don't mean he does this during one of these times each day, I mean every day, at each of these times. And then some. And I think he actually means it. He knows that love to him means hugs and kisses, smiles and being nice. And when he is in trouble he can even be desperate to tell me that he loves me.
For now, it works on me. And Ian. And his sisters. Who all eagerly tell him we love him right back.
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