You moaned and groaned like a tiny teenager when I said we were going on a Valentine’s date today. We barely leave the house yet you didn’t leap like I thought you might at the opportunity to retreat from your bunk bed and spend the day out with mommy; you’re evil, but I love you so. I also think your bedroom and your Xbox have become your security blanket this year. Screen time has gone from a special treat to a down right necessity in a Covid Winter.
But when we arrived at the art studio you were present and so was I.
I managed to place my anxiety over nearly everything in the backseat and thought only of choosing colors – matte or pearl – cleaning and drying brushes well enough, varnishing our art and admiring the shine.
I snapped quick photos of your concentration, placed the phone down and watched your fingers move, how you dipped your brush a little too aggressively, swirled through the orange like a hurricane then slapped on too many layers.
We thought about where we’d place our art when we got home, we talked about school and how well you’re reading now. You read almost every word strewn across the walls on various wooden signs and canvases. “The world looks different when you can read, doesn’t it?” I said. You nodded and smiled.
I watched you being you, being five, making choices with intent, a purpose on your face.
I watched you. I saw you, all of you. I promise to try to see you more.