This is How I See You

Every morning without fail Max begins his series of inquiries. "What are we  going to do today mom? Are we going somewhere mom? What's happening next mom? What are we going to do after breakfast mom?" He is in fact exhibiting uncertainty reduction theory just as my graduate professors promised. Human nature lends us to instinctively look ahead and attempt to predict the next moment in order to reduce our fears, our feelings of the unknown. Children question us bigger kids to give them just a glimpse into what is going to happen the next hour, the next day, what it means to count down the advent calendar or help them understand in five sleeps Santa is coming. So we look for cues, normalcy, routine and the familiar to reduce that uncertainty. The trouble is we are all too often reminded that we have no control and no earthly idea what might happen next. Imagine you are three--these uncertainties must seem gigantic and even the smallest change can feel overwhelming.

The tragedy and horror of last week is leaving us all a bit more than uncertain this holiday season. I have been praying for those families and all the heavy hearts in Newtown. Mostly I go about my daily life, keep my appointments, still let my baby's cry stress me out and insist that Max remember his manners at the dinner table. None of us have the answers and I for one am fumbling my keys in the mall parking lot, keeping my eyes peeled for something suspicious but have no real idea what it is I am trying to see. The only sensible realization came to me when catching up on episodes of Parenthood. I don't keep up with my DVR very well these days but this show just speaks to me and I enjoy the characters. So amongst the holiday bustle and the ache we all feel for those experiencing recent tragedy or reliving a day years ago when they too lost something irreplaceable---all I can think to say or do is tell Max and Will how very loved they are, spend a moment here acknowledging them just as they are today, in this very time and hope they always know and remember a mom that stopped to read them a book, sing them a song and if possible made sure something sweet happened every day.

To Max, this is how I see you: You have a silly heart and gigantic imagination. Moments with you pretending your cars are running the town and meeting new friends helps me breathe a little deeper. At three you are wanting to know my favorite color or what music I prefer--this level of sincere curiosity is nothing short of exquisite. Your love of books and endless chatter tells me we share a love for the written word and enjoy good conversation. In your latest role as big brother, you are really stealing the show. Watching you with Will melts my heart. The tenderness and devotion you have for him tells me so much about you. I have no doubt your capacity to love, desire to learn and willingness to discover are keys to your future success. Precocious for certain, you want to chase and be chased, you already know how to flirt (really well) and you will certainly be turning heads for many reasons. A talker first and walker second, I see you as my poet, author and healer.

To Will, this is how I see you: Your knowing smile at five months is very telling. I envision big love from you for all things great and small. A temperment that's a challenge for sure is likely to bring great accomplishment. You are my snuggler and desire lots of attention. Your kicks and jumping antics tell me you are sure to be the rough and tumble one. Yet I observe a sensitive soul in there, you look far into my eyes and yours tell me a story so wise. I see you as a teacher, coach and climber of mountains.

Max spent a few nights on his own at my mom's over Thanksgiving and it was then I recorded a few of his favorite songs on video, so he had a special bedtime message. It was a song that only Max and I know so it had to be preserved on film! This made me realize as many photos as I capture or upload to Facebook, I still hadn't recorded the most precious gifts and moments. Now in 20 years when neither of us remember the random tune and lyrics to "Mater & Lightening are Friends" we can reminisce.

Take some time this season and all year long to write down that story the kids love (you made up out of the blue), create a video diary with special messages or songs, paste all those status updates from FB and save them in a file or start a simple journal of notes/letters like the one I have for Max. When I have a chance I write him a letter about what he is doing and how things are going in our lives. None of these ideas are novel, maybe you have some to share too and I would love to hear. Sometimes a little nudge or reminder to take that time is a priceless gift, a tangible piece of yourself to give your children or any loved one.

I admittedly just adore Sarah Mclachlan, a snippet from her "Wintersong" expresses my full heart for both my sons. Even I know when to quote and stop blubbering. To Max and Will, my beautiful boys, I wish you love and only love--this is how I see you:

And this is how I see you
In the snow on Christmas morning
Love and happiness surround you
As you throw your arms up to the sky
I keep this moment by and by