Posted on: Monday
Gaby held Lucien in our living room and I stood by the record player, quietly watching a father and son interact. Lou gazed up at his big bearded Papa. You could feel the love in his eyes. He wasn't just looking at his Papa, he was looking at the face of the familiar and the safe, the warm and the loving. He had known that face since day one, and, to him, it was perfection.
Each morning, when I grumpily hope for just five more minutes of slumber, Biet jumps upon me and wedges herself under my arm, asking in a far-too-loud voice, "Mama, you awaaaaake?!". She sees not my red-rimmed, mascara-smeared eyes, nor the soft crinkles just beginning to crease my face. She sees not the sprouts of postpartum hair regrowth sticking straight up on my forehead, nor my unshaven legs. She sees not the imperfections, or as I've come to know them in my overly-critical and comparative adult life, my flaws. She sees only Mama, her Mama, her everything.
It turns out that these children of ours, these utterly perfect children of ours, have a way of finding the perfection around them all of the time. They see the world in a way that rises above stereotypes, judgement, and norms, and rests instead on pure insight and intuition. They look at the world with great big eyes of wonder, and they are open to and accepting of it- to all that it is, and all that it is capable of becoming. And when you think about it, that's kind of an incredibly healthy and inspiring way to be.
I know that if I can take a moment each day to try to see the world as they do, my world will become more beautiful. If I can strive to focus on the perfection of the day to day things around me- the perfection of my tired eyes and crooked smile (those eyes are tired from growing and raising two beautiful human beings! That smile makes my children beam with happiness!) or my husband's salt and pepper hair (he's more and more handsome with age!), or the inevitable constant mess in our home (a well-lived-in home where there's always a project underway!), or the way that our bed always and forever smells like a dog (our beautiful Nico whom we love to the moon and back- we're lucky to call her a part of our family!)- well, I know that I'll begin to see everything more clearly.
These things don't bother our babies, and why should they? We have each other, we have our health, and we have a million things to make and adventures ahead of us. My kids know that, and, when I let them remind me, I know that too.
And on this sunny morning, as I put on a record for my family, my boys reminded me of all this.
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