How would I do things differently if I looked at them through my son's eyes?
Through Kieran's eyes, I would see that he wasn't being naughty in getting my knitting, but that he wanted to help make his Papa's sweater.
Through Kieran's eyes, I would see that he didn't mean to wake his sister, but that he needed me to get up with him so he could have breakfast.
Through Kieran's eyes, I would see that this potty training business is huge, uncharted territory, and that he just needs some reassurance that he's still my little boy.
Through Kieran's eyes, I would see the Eucharist and excitedly exclaim "Body of Christ!"
Through Kieran's eyes, I would see that he's not getting in my way, he just wants to help me.
Through Kieran's eyes, everything is full of wonder and potential, and yet how often do I miss that?
I was thinking about these things last night, about how I can be overly harsh in my tone of voice and expressions, when he's not doing anything that's naughty. He's just exploring and being a 3-year-old. He just wants to help. He wants so badly to be independent for some things, and yet wants to be able to snuggle and nurse for that reassurance that I'm here for him and that he's still my little boy. I would love for him to wean, but he obviously still needs that bond. There seems to be a fine line between encouraging him and pushing too hard too fast, and I'm not always sure where that line is. I want to apologise to him so much, to tell him I've never had a 3-year-old and I'm sorry that he has to be the guinea pig. I want to apologise to him for all those times I'm too busy doing my own thing and don't recognise his need and desire to help.
I'm thankful that I let him help me knit last night. Yes, it took longer, but that time together was priceless. I wish, though, that I were gentler, that I didn't raise my voice unnecessarily, regardless of whether I'm tired or hungry or whatnot (I can be rather harsh when I get hungry; it's not pretty). Lord, help me to see things through Kieran's eyes.