Letters to My Kids

Taking Notice

Dear Child of Mine,

I can’t wait to meet you, to observe you at play, to listen to your words, to learn what’s important to you. I wonder what your favorite toy will be and if you’ll be attached to a blankie. I hope I watch you with the same addicted admiration I have for the little ones in my life right now. My gaze is drawn toward tiny humans, watching them make believe, playing pretend.

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As we sit in Sunday School class and everyone is engaged in heady conversation, my face is full of smiles that can’t be contained as I hear the non-sensical songs of Amelia. I can’t seem to peel my eyes away for more than a moment.  I am admiring the soft, innocent curls of her hair, loving the way her dress twists and turns as she rolls on the floor because sitting lady-like isn’t important quite yet, and then having her eyes lock onto mine as we smile knowingly as if to say yes, I love you, too. 

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I look up for a moment and am almost astonished that none of the adults in the room  are watching this precious little girl with the same riveted attention as me. I wonder why I am so attracted to the movement, the sounds, the life of children. Finding beauty in every part of them.
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And the next day I go to the park with Jillian and she wants to pick dandelions. These weed-flowers are abundant and I wonder why grown ups dislike them so much. They are beautiful. Golden Yellow. Cheerful. Spots of sunshine speckling yards and fields. Dandelions are your Daddy’s favorite flower, Little One. You’ll have to pick him many bouquets.

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I get lost in the background of the dandelion-picking-scene, listening to Jillian’s excited exclamations as she finds a better and better flower each time. I pay attention to her little hands plucking those weed-flowers with such care. I notice the sun shining through her golden locks and watch as the breeze rustles a few pieces of hair into her face. She runs to me again and again, showing me the newest flower. And I’m excited for her.

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Come pick dandelions with me, Child. Your Daddy will love it. I’ll watch you run through the field, full of glee and wild abandonment. Giggle as you take a tumble, still a little wobbly on the uneven ground. I’ll take pictures to capture the moment, helping to remind me that this is precious.

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I’ll push you on the swing again and again, urging you to pump forward, now back! I could swing for hours next to you, talking about your favorite dandelion, listening to you sing about Jesus, teaching you how to play together. I’ll put down my phone and just be with you. Running with abandon, enjoying the moments. Breathing in the sunshine and the warm breeze.

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We can have picnics in the yard, with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and homemade chocolate chip cookies. We’ll watch Daddy play with the ants and other insects that invite themselves to our party. I’ll push you in the stroller around and around the neighborhood, letting you collect rocks and hoping you’ll finally take a nap because I know you’re just exhausted. We’ll go for runs together, with you in the stroller encouraging me to go faster, faster, loving the wind in your hair. And I’ll just love hearing your little voice. 

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You’re beautiful.

 

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