Little Dude likes to say, "I love you." I don't know if he understands the importance of the words, or if he just likes the reaction he gets, but he uses the phrase easily and often. He loves his friends, his family, his teachers and his favorite toys. Lately, he likes to sidle up to me with a stealthy look and whisper, "I love you," in my ear. I respond with hugs and kisses and an "I love you more" in return. He smiles and says, "Couldn't be possible." I remember the first time he said he loved me, even though the words were mangled and mushy and sounded something like "wuv wu." It didn't matter one bit. "I love you" may be the most powerful sentence I know. But although it is heady and profound to hear (and say) "I love you," it is only a microscopic part of parenting. The words are important, but they aren't enough. In fact, they pale in comparison to the ways we show our children we love them. That old cliché, "Actions speak louder than words" is the core of what we do as parents every day. I learned this gradually. I'm a stepmom and a mom. My boys are sixteen and four. I love them both, but they are different people and they show and receive affection differently. Little Dude is a snuggler, a hugger, a kisser. He wants to be around his dad and me all the time. My stepson is a teenager, and I'm sure the idea of snuggling with his parents horrifies him. He is bright, funny, kind and decent, but he is sixteen after all. I tell them both I love them, but while Little Dude might hear it twenty times a day, I say it less often to my fabulous stepson. Not because I love him less, but because he's not a preschooler. I used to worry that he might not know how much I care about him because I say those three magic words less often, until a friend reminded me that affection isn't limited to things we say. Because this affirmation came from a woman with two kids who works a demanding job outside her home, gets to school plays and tae kwon do lessons and knits her children new sweaters every year with their ages on them, I paid attention. Besides, she's sort of kickass wise. Her insight dovetailed with something an old friend once told me. She said that peace isn't a noun, it's a verb. Meaning, peace isn't a state of being, it's an action -- a choice that requires constant tending. Seems to me, love is an action too.