Watching a little person learn to speak is amazing. Seeing them move from little noises to words, from one word to two, then three, then sentences--it's as if you can literally see them figuring things out.
While working on our colors and numbers and songs, we try to throw in a little preschool theology. We're never sure exactly what the twins understand, but we do our best to explain some basics. One recurring lesson is that God made everything. We ask who made the sun/moon/water/plants/etc., and the twins respond God. I'm never sure if they actually think that's the answer, or if they have figured out that God is usually a good guess when they don't otherwise know. But today, all that preschool theology paid off in the most beautiful three words.
As we were playing in the twins room reading books about animals, I asked them who made the moon. Their response: God. Then I asked who made them. And B declared, so confidently and proudly, "God made my." The pronoun may have been a little off, but the sentiment was oh so on. Yes, my love. God made you. God made you spunky and goofy. He made you a sweet cuddler. He placed that rough and tumble yet oh so tender soul in your adorable body. He made you unique and alive. And he made you mine. God made my Barnes.