“Mom! His sword fell into the water! Mom! Look!” Spense calls as he manipulates his Playmobile.

I look. I stop whatever I’m doing to look. I always do. Sometimes it’s the hardest thing ever to abandon sweeping croissant crumbs mid sweep or put a dish down mid wash or stop stirring the sauce or stop folding laundry, but I do it. Sometimes, I just don’t want to look at another little plastic knight sword fight another plastic knight, that I’m supposed to recognize as the bad guy.But I do.

“Mom. Mom. Mom. Look,” he says. RELENTLESSLY. Until I look and give him my undivided attention.

Why do I stop everything to look and watch? Because:

1. I can. I’m there. I’m home. I can stop what I’m doing to look.It’s part of being present.
2. Because he wants to share what’s important to him with me. That means I’m important to him. I’m happy I’m important enough to him to want to share with me. I also believe that if I let him know his pose upside down on the couch means a lot to me, then in ten years, he may feel like he wants to share with me the kids who offered him pot or whatever. I want him to grow up knowing that I always have time for him. I want him to know that whatever is important to him is important to me.
3. I believe that when I give him my attention, it builds his confidence. He feels that what he does or says matters. Because if your mom doesn’t care… than who will?

One time, I watched him make a stuffed animal and an Elf on a Shelf dance to Baby It’s Cold Outside for a good two minutes, possibly longer.  It felt longer. I was mid sentence, writing an email and after many rounds of “Mom. Mom. Mom, look. Mom, look,” I stopped typing and just surrendered with a big smile on my face watching the show. Anytime my eyes strayed down, I got a “Mom. Mom. Mom, look.”

It’s almost like he’s testing me. Does she really care?

There are times I tell him “Give me a minute…” but I don’t ever want to dismiss him.

“Mom. Mom. MOM, look…” this time, he’s boxing an imaginary opponent. Often, he’s pretending to knock himself out with those pchew pcheww sounds I remember boys in my elementary school made. Sometimes, it’s sword fighting he needs me to see.

He’s almost 5 now. He’s just started to play by himself, in his room. He’s not going to be including me too much longer. And that’s what I tell myself as I watch and smile and nod. I always want to be included in his thoughts. Today it’s watching his toys dance or sword fight, tomorrow it might be listening to his adolescent fears or concerns. I believe it’s connected.

Make these little guy’s days matter as much as possible.