A walk around the neighborhood with my preschooler the other day, was more eye opening than I had anticipated. As we stopped to look at cherry blossoms and marveled at the new spring flowers, I savored the deliciousness of being a child. I cherished, pausing and relishing his excitement.
A bitter sweet feeling swept over me, though. At the end of the day, these precious moments and times are but fleeting. I was reminded of a wonderful poem I chanced upon at QACP. It aptly impresses upon the importance and joy of parents becoming children, and seeing the world through their little ones’ eyes.
My Child by Diana Loomans
If I had my child to raise over again…
I’d finger paint more, and point fingers less.
I’d do less correcting, and more connecting.
I’d take my eyes off my watch, and watch more with my eyes.
I’d take more hikes and fly more kites.
I’d stop playing serious and seriously play.
I’d do more hugging and less tugging.
I’d see the oak tree in the acorn more often.
I’d be firm less often and affirm more.
I’d model less about the love of power, and more about the power of love.