Spiderman, Spiderman. Does whatever a six-year-old can.

This boy.

He's growing up.

He has his first loose tooth.

He told his father the other day, "You don't know what I'm feeling!" in regards to wanting to play video games. (His father responded that actually, he knew exactly what it felt like to be a little boy who wanted to play video games.)

He's getting more defiant.

But he's also learning important things about life.

This morning, the first thing he did was ask if I could help him with his workbook. He wanted to play on the (now password-secured) computer but knew he needed to do his chores first. I told him that I would love to help him.

We sat down for breakfast and he began working as he was eating. Consequently, he was a little bit slower to finish his cereal. The Hulk finished before him, and stated that he had been first. (Everything's a competition with those boys. I have a feeling it's a phase they will never grown out of.) Spiderman, who is nearly always the winner, started to get upset that he wasn't in 'first place.'

"Spiderman," I said, "you made a good choice. You chose to do your work book so it took you a little longer to finish your cereal and that's okay. Because now you have TWO things done!"

He perked up a bit at that.

A few minutes later, he said, "I like making good choices."

My heart melted a bit, and I told him I was glad he liked making good choices.

"Because it makes Heavenly Father happy."

My heart melted even further. I asked him, "Do you know who else it makes happy?"

He shook his head, not knowing the answer.

I pointed to his chest.

"Me? Oh, yeah! Good choices make ME happy, too!"

Slowly but surely, he's getting it.