Thursday, March 4, 2010

Just Him

Youngest Son.

Dreamer, thinker, creator.

Quiet, non-demanding, compliant.

Sensitive. So very sensitive.

The other day as I was slaving away working hard on the upcoming soccer season, making spreadsheets, organizing fundraisers, sending e-mails, I felt a soft hand on my arm.

"Mom, I feel like I haven't seen you lately. We haven't spent any time together."

You know all the feelings, thoughts, justifications that came swirling up in my mind.

I'm in this house 24/7, I make all your meals, wash all your clothes, clean up the messes, answer all the questions, console all the hurts. {blah, blah, blah}

But inside I knew the translation of his words.

"Mom, you've been here but we haven't been connecting. I need you to be part of my world, to notice me and be engaged."

And he was right.

So we planned right then for the coming Monday to be just our day. All the other kids would be gone for the day (wow, thank you, God!).

And then I praised him. I praised him for speaking up, for communicating, for letting me know what he needed.

I think that's one of the biggest gifts we can give these quiet, sensitive, undemanding types . . . the gift of teaching them to speak up, to expect to be heard, and then listening to them, really hearing them, seeing life through their eyes, whether we see it quite the same or not, and then acting on that knowledge.

And so, on Monday we read Hardy Boys together and Joe got dog fangs in his leg and Chet got knocked out cold.

And we played "our game" and we plowed and endured a blight of Japanese beetles and sold our crop for too little.

And he showed me his Lego creations. And I sat there and concentrated (or really, really tried) as he explained every . intricate . detail. And I reminded myself to be in the moment and that this was sacrificial love and that even intricate-Lego-detail-description can't last forever. Right??!

And I even snuggled down on the soft blue couch all wrapped up in a blanket with him and watched an episode of "Phineas and Ferb" and fell asleep . . . because I was all snuggly and warm and tired.

And he didn't mind because I was connecting and I was engaging and I was trying to love his world.

And that's really all he wanted.


  1. That is so sweet. My middle child is our snuggler, he is only 4 though. I love sweet times alone with each kid. It is precious and I absolutely think it is so needed.

  2. So.....this post just convicted me more than a lot of sermons I hear.
    Oh man.

  3. ok, this one has got me sniffling a little bit. so sweet...

  4. this reminds me to do this for each of my girls as well.

  5. How wonderful that he felt able to express his needs to you. I also have a child (a young woman now) who let others go before her, never expressing her wants or needs. One very bright teacher once told her that she had a lot to offer the world, and that she should speak up. This is my daughter now-
    She has come a long way.
    Good for you his being able to approach you, and good for you for hearing him.

  6. Oh what a sweet post. And, what a sweet mom you are. Precious times....

  7. They grow up so very fast.


  8. Thanks for this Shelley - you're a good mama.

  9. Thanks, Shelley! We can relate to youngest son in his quiet demeanor. It was a heartwarming story, and you made VERY SPECIAL memories for him, a time unforgettable.
    Love it! We're thrilled to be in on the experiences of your family life.

  10. i like your post mom