Subtle signs of love

Today’s post was spurred on by the act of writing a comment on one of Miss Zoot‘s blog posts. As a Mother of a teenager and a near tween, I know the feeling that crops up again and again. It’s the feeling of being unappreciated for all that you do.

I often feel that no matter how much I do, it is never enough. There always seems to be disappointment when I finally say, “uh, no, I can’t do that today.” The requester’s world falls apart and the displays of frustration were as if I never did a thing for them. It’s just not the case. I know it, and the boys know it too.

On the flip side, I have been guilty of taking for granted the acts of kindness and thoughtfulness that my kids give me. These moments often go un-thanked, but when the tempers rise, I always notice. How hypocritical is that?

Don’t let the sweet moments go unnoticed. Slow down just enough to enjoy the subtle way that your children say I love you or thanks.

Give this a thought:
Think about when you cook a great meal and your family gobbles it all up and asks for more. Could that be their way of saying thank you? Remember when they were babies, hypnotizing you with their content stare as they gulped away at the milk that only you could provide. There was no doubt that they were saying thank you then. And what about when you come home from a business trip and they are waiting up for you, even though it is late at night and they are exhausted. They most definitely are saying I love you.

Sure, it is nice to hear the words, “I love you” and “thank you”, but it often doesn’t come without prodding. If you have to ask for it, the meaning gets diluted. Everyone needs love and wants to feel that what they do is appreciated. Perhaps we need to look at things in a new way now and then.

Just step back and look at a situation from a different vantage point. You just might see things a little differently…

Last night, as the Family F was preparing for bed, I was already getting caught up in the activities of the next day. Since the kids were out of school for Veterans’ Day, it was like a Sunday night. The homework needed to be in the backpacks, the clothes for the next day set out, and that sort of stuff.

The kids rushed to get these things done and then, as is the usual, the race to my bed was on. As if they had Superman powers, they leap face first, with arms straight out, to claim a spot in the big bed. Generally, the calm lasts about 10-20 minutes before the big bed is no longer big enough and the boys start fighting over legroom and retreat to their rooms. This time however, they must have been very tired, as both boys were asleep before I’d finished reading a page in my book.

I looked over at these sweet boys, and thought about how precious this time really is. Life passes too quickly. It wasn’t that long ago when they were waking up after a bad dream and crawling into bed with Tom and I. I also know that it won’t be that long before they will be leaving me with an empty nest.

Sometimes I am bugged that I can’t even have 30 minutes at the end of the day to relax and read a book. But how foolish it would be to not notice that my boys *want* to be near me as they wind down and go to sleep? So as they quietly slept, I tousled their hair, and kissed them gently on their heads. Then, I turned out the light, got as skinny as I could, and slipped into the sliver of a space left in the bed for me. I closed my eyes, looked up past the ceiling and said goodnight to Tom, and thanked God for another day.