This morning, you meandered out of your bedroom shortly before 8:00am, which is a miracle at our house. I was sitting on the couch and you joined me, sitting in your Superman underwear. While you ate your pretzel bagel, I watched you as you talked- so expressive with your face and your hands. Every once and a while you would stop moving and talking and crane your neck as you listened for signs that Alex was awake. I just stared at you, dead still with a bagel hanging from your lips, and thought how lucky I was. When you asked why I was staring at you, I said, “You’re just so adorable, I could look at you all day long.”
The other night, when I was giving you your nightly foot massage, you were telling me about the mean things kids do at school. We talked about loving our enemies and getting our feelings hurt and how things just stink sometimes. When I stood up to leave, your mood shifted and you got sassy and defiant. My gut reaction was to punish and take privileges away, but I withheld and breathed. As I walked to the door, I turned around and said, “I’m sorry those kids are doing those things to you. I think you’re a treasure.”
Immediately, your mood shifted again and I could feel you relax. You said thank you and good night and fell asleep (hopefully) basking in the truth that you are loved.
Sometimes I forget how much of an internal dialogue you must have regarding your worth and your value. You know rejection all too well, little one, and, even though you hide it, I know that it’s a struggle for you to know that you are enough.
Yes, it is my job as a parent to discipline and train and protect. But I think my most important job is to bathe you in the truth that you are special, important, a treasure.
May I never forget that.
Thank you for sharing yourself with us. You are a treasure.
All my love,