Crumpled flowers

I think all parents doubt that they are doing the right thing. I know for me, I am a researcher, and my research gets to be researched and even then, sometimes, I don't know that I am doing the right thing. The internal dialogue is rarely silenced.

Today, as I sat in my "office" (bedroom) and was working, my dad was hanging out with Ezra and took him outside to play. Ezra picked a couple of flowers, he told my dad that he had to bring them in to me, that "Momma needed flowers".

I wasn't quite on break yet, or in a place that I could pause the calls and take the time that he deserved for me to be completely present. He waiting patiently. When I did walk away from the desk, he opened up his chubby toddler hand and said "these are for you!! You did a GREAT job!"

My sweet son brought me in the precious little violets that are scattered around most Midwest yards, crumped in his tiny little hands. He was so proud, and they were picked with so much love. He was disappointed that they had wilted and got "squished" while he was waiting, so more were foraged and put in a little vase for me to "remember him the rest of the day".

I love the simple reminders that children provide us, the simple signs and gestures that show that I'm not completely messing this up.

Whether its the little drawings, the running into the room after playing just to give a hug, snuggles, asking to spend time together playing their favorite games, just being invited into their little worlds is such an absolute honor. -- Even when playing Super Smash Brothers or Minecraft (I have no idea what I am doing). But to be able to witness their minds in action, their passion and receive the love of crumpled flowers is ...what it's all about.

Well, that and the hokey pokey.