>Hey, everybody!! I’m popping in real quick as we crest the peak of the Loch Ness Monster here to bring on the guest post. You met her yesterday and she’s back to entertain you with a story about “Love” and “expectations”. Please welcome back Brittainy from Litany of Brittainy…
Love Is Kitty Tails
Love, to my four year old, is three identical pink kitties with beans in their bellies. The one with the two blue sharpie dots on the tag is her favorite, and she knows him by smell. For her, love is kitty tails rubbed across the nose while she drifts off to sleep. Blue Kitty has been her companion since infancy, and she has never left the house without him. Mackenzie and Kitty. Kitty and Mackenzie. Never one without the other. No matter how dirty or faded that bag of beans gets, its hers. Its unconditional.
My two year old has never had a favorite thing. Never sucked his thumb, never wanted a pacifier, (much to my exhausted dismay). He doesn’t drag behind him a ragged blanket, doesn’t need a special stuffed thing to lull him to sleep. There isn’t some irreplaceable thing we worry about losing at the zoo. For him it is me. Whether I’m dressed and accessorized, or in a comfy pair of sweats, its me. Whether I’m happy, sad, or frustrated, its me. That boy doesn’t care if I’m a brain surgeon or a hot dog vendor. It matters not about my politics, opinions, or housekeeping skills. Nothing makes a difference at all. Its unconditional.
I don’t think I’ve ever known another love like kid love. Adults are responsible in the way they love. There are motives, repercussions, paper work. For the grown folk there are in-laws, traditions, and stigmas. They love with reason and expect too much. Their love is misguided with their pocketbooks, or their bodies, and not enough with their hearts.
No love is more pure than the love of small children. There are no rules, no boundaries. No expectations to measure up to, be let down by. For the small ones there aren’t assumptions, or predictions. No standards to live up too. No room for disappointment. For the littles, love just is.
The Scoop on Poop 
>My six year old still has his sleep sheep in his bed with him every night. Great guest blogger! I can't wait to hear about your trip to Europe!Drama mama, I gave you a shout out over at my blog. Be sure to stop by!
>Perfect sentence. "love just is."I love little kids.
>My son is the same. I am the security. Me and only me.
>I love how Mungee lights up with her entire being when I walk into the room. It is a beautiful, unconditional love. You describe it so well!
>I don't think either one of my two was attached to anything like a blanket. And neither one of them ever wanted a pacifer (it's been so long I don't even remember how to spell it.)Following you now from Blog Flow.
>so true. i'm enjoying the adulation (really, there isnt any other word for it) that i get from my son. soon, i'll be lucky if i even get a glance from him..
>So very true! I never thought I could love someone as much as my mother…until I met my hubby…and never thought I would love someone as much as my hubby….until I had my children. All five special in their own way! :)Wonderful guest post!