My kid is a thinker. He has feelings, but he tends to run with his thoughts. Given a choice between telling you how he feels and what he thinks, there is no choice. He’d rather build you a robot than talk about his emotions. Rather design you a card or picture on his computer than actually write one by hand. I sometimes find myself struggling to relate to this deeply analytical child—as his way of being in the world is very different than mine.
He is also 10 and quickly reaching the age where the stories about him are no longer “cute” and “funny”—but limited by his need for privacy. He knows I blog and he knows he plays a big role in this world of mine. He’s ok with me telling you the good stuff and with my posting photos, as long as he isn’t “embarrassed” by it. At two you can get away with sharing so much, even at six and seven. Let’s face it, at that age they are doing stuff that warrants conversation. Those little wisdoms that come bounding out of their limited experience are too good not to share. Right?
At ten… not only are the things he’s doing too complicated to share—how am I supposed to explain that he’s looking for molecular modeling on the internet and can’t find anything that isn’t attached to a University when I’m not sure what molecular modeling is—but they are private in nature. It’s stuff you might not want your mother telling the world.
It’s not just about dignity… although I’m trying hard to maintain mine while protecting his. It’s also about being willing to let another person own their own story. I have some time before he looks at me and says, “This is my life and it’s off limits”—but it’s coming. At 10 he has his own blog and his own stories to tell. He is finding is own voice and the line between what part of the story belongs to me and what is his by virtue of experience is getting so hard to see.
I’m hoping, that by taking this first step to letting him go, letting him be in charge of his own story, that the later letting go will be easier. Of course, it won’t be. But practice has to help—if only in teaching of the doing.
These are lessons I’d rather not have to learn.
Today, IZ and I were called downstairs and presented with the card above. The text on the front reads:
Your love is great. So great that in order to give it back I had to wrap it in these three poems.
The inside has the following handwritten poems.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I love spending time with you.
Rather a sewing lesson or a video game,
I love the fun you put in my name.
In or out , you’re always about,
Whenever I am in doubt.
Sometimes I’m frustrated there is no doubt,
But you can fix it before I shout.
Whenever you can you say OK,
So we can all shout Hooray!
Young or old you will always
Make me feel the Love you hold.
Mom
Kind, Happy
Loving, Feeling, Exaggerating
A happy good person
Thank you
Dad
Scientific, Enthusiastic
Thinking, minding, examining
Another good happy person
Thank you.
He closed his little love note with these words:
Dear Mom and Dad,
Thank you for all the wonderful things you have given me. Now I give you these poems to express my feelings about you.
It was that last line that sent my tear ducts into overdrive. Of course, it’s not cool to be crying over these things…
Boy Wonder: So, do you like it?
Me: Like isn’t a strong enough word, kiddo. It’s beautiful, these words are beautiful and I love it. I love YOU!
And here is the moment. Where I once would have posted those words without a second thought, I paused. I held his little card in my hands and said, “So, do you mind if I share your words on my blog?†He just smiled and said, “Nah, you can! It’s ok. Honest.â€
I find myself overwhelmed a lot these days and he’s not the least of the beauty in my world. As I sat there looking at his card, breathing that moment in I was impressed with his willingness to put to paper his feelings. This wasn’t a gift of a robot or an invention or his newest theory on atomic science. Instead, it was like being handed a flashlight in a dark tunnel and discovering that you are surrounded by astonishing beauty. In making his card, he moved out of his own world and attempted to meet me in mine. Pencil and paper and watercolors and crayon—the stuff of my soul was handed back to me in the most tender of moments.
I almost didn’t write this—I almost held onto it… but even at ten the wisdom that comes bounding out his experiences is so worth sharing. So, I share while I still can.
And then, my thinker child went back to thinking. I thanked him for his gift and said I’d be keeping his words forever. He smiled at me and said. “You know if you don’t want to type all that out, I have it saved on my computer.â€
A beautiful moment indeed, all the more so because it was so out of the blue. Today was a good day. This was not done out of some ulterior motive like “I want” or “I’m in trouble” – no this was just pure love. And how blessed are we that he would take the time to simply acknowledge his parents and give us this heartfelt gift of words. Sometimes I feel like I’m being assailed by words. Not today.
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He’s pretty funny, our kid. :DÂ I’m glad I’ve got you in the parenting ring with me! ~W
Wow. Moments like these, well, they pretty much rock. There are alot of similarities between your wonderful, strong, little man, and my boyo. When you blog about him, it rings so true for me. I like knowing I’m not the only one going through the same motions.
I think that although you (we) must let go of our children to let them find their way in their own worlds (hopefully not too out of touch with our own) we also can relish in the fact we’ve been instrumental in them discovering and finding their place in them.
The tokens they offer are immeasurably valuable, and tell us that they do in fact realise even if at a subconscious level that we as mothers and fathers NEED to sometimes be reminded that these wonderfully amazing creatures love and need us.
We give them the tools and watch with wonder what they create.
love pie xo
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Oh, nice to know I’m not the only one living for those moments! 😀 ~W
You are so blessed! (Like you didn’t know already)
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😀 ~W
Wow. This had me crying, I’m glad he let you share it.
And this sentence,
“In making his card, he moved out of his own world and attempted to meet me in mine.”
KEEPS making me cry (which isn’t good because now I’m at work). Meeting people in their world, even if it is uncomfortable, is such a beautiful part of love.
I can see you guys are a beautiful family with my eyes AND my heart!
Is it ok if we read this at the Fan Club Meeting/Therapy Group? Just kidding 🙂
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Oh, oh… I’d better post something funny soon, eh? Until then, go click on the clock link in the post below and cruise around Urban Outfitters–retail therapy, it works! And as President of the Fan Club/Therapy Group you can read whatever you want at your meetings. (and thank you!) Heh… ~W
A beautiful moment. The younger of our lads is 19, always a strong character and independent, but always willing to let us in on his world; still is, miracle of miracles. Prized possession: An impressionistic portrait he did of me some years back; I’m pictured with his pet rat on my shoulder, a scene from real household life.
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Our kiddo is very head centered–and as long as we are ok with that part of his world, then we are told EVERYTHING. But he doesn’t talk from his “heart” much. So, when he does, the world kinda stands still. As for your portrait… that would be cool to see! 😀 ~W
Beautiful boy.
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Thank you. 😀 ~W
Terrific stuff, Wende. Those moments(and poetry, card, etc..) don’t come around all the time. It’s good for him to get in touch with his feelings, and know that’s it’s fine (even great) to express them. All I got today was my driving criticized by Alison. (I was letting someone in, but they wouldn’t go–so I honked) It took everything I had to not snap back, ” I’ve been driving for 34 years and not YET ever put my car in a ditch.” I restrained myself.
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Thank you, Margaret. And, well done you! I don’t think I would have been so restrained in your position. Does the irony of what they say ever hit them? 😀 ~W
All I could think is that you all have done something really, really right raising this kiddo. How wonderful that he is so open in expressing his love and that it is accepted with such wide, wide open arms and hearts. I don’t think many kids have that.
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Thank you, Michelle. I would imagine that in your line of work, you see lots of kids who could use some love. That you do what you do is an inspiration. ~W
so very wonderful….
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Thank you! Hope your boy is resting and healing! ~W
Wow. That was a beautiful card. Thank you for sharing it with us!
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You’re welcome! Glad to see you’re feeling better… you’ve been missed. 😀 ~W
Okay, so I’m now totally crying at my desk at work and I’m fairly certain that no one needs to know I’m crying about what one of my blog friend’s kid’s wrote in a card.
What a sweet boy you have!
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He does have his moments! ~W