Before having a child of my own, I heard rumblings that some parents felt they learned more from their children than they taught them.
I am one of those some.
I feel like I’ve taught Tom words. I’ve taught Tom to look at the stars. To identify an airplane in the sky. He knows what babies are. He knows horses make a trotting noise. He knows exactly what “be careful” means.
He knows a kiss. A hug. He knows when I say “I love you” it’s nice.
He knows how to get a treat for Huck. He knows not to bother Huck while he’s eating. He knows that Huck’s water is off limits.
He knows what it means when I say the words nap, or book, or diaper, or bath.
He knows when I say “I’m gonna get you” that he better crawl fast because he’s about to get raspberried.
I taught him those things. And a few others.
(Well, not just me. Geez, conceited.)
But I already feel in his one year of life that he has taught me more significant things.
He has taught me selflessness.
He has taught me patience.
He has taught me to be stronger.
He has taught me how to be a fighter.
He has made me have a greater compassion for others.
He has solidified for me that family and close friends are the most important thing.
He has taught me that baby laughter is like a drug for me.
He has taught me some major time management skills.
He has taught me how to love someone like I’ve never loved before.
The lessons I’ve learned this year are invaluable.
I mean, I know Tom is happy I’ve taught him what a truck is.
But I’m happy he taught me a kind of happiness that I’d ever experienced before.
Tom has taught me so much more.
So for the 7,125,679th time (this week) I say…
I love you, Tom.
(He knows it’s nice.)