Known and Loved

Right before the holidays in 2016, I was grocery shopping and ran into the principal from the school system where I was the food service director in my early career. She was with her teenage daughter, who I happened to know; but, had never made the connection that she was this woman’s daughter.

She was a teacher at my son’s daycare. We got to chatting about this coincidence in our connections and her daughter, after learning who’s mother I was, goes, “Oh, I know Theo!”

Theo was seven months old.

Thanks to the haze of postpartum depression/anxiety/sleeplessness I felt like I was just getting to know Theo as “Theo.”

Or, as anything besides this tiny, precious being that needed me for everything. Or, “anyone” for that matter.

But, she knew him.

There is something strange and so special about first time you hear someone else say your child’s name. It’s a simple thing really, and for us it was always from family. But, each time my kids names were first said by someone other than Adam or me my breath would catch. You used their name…!

Then, there comes the wild magic of hearing another kid say your child’s name. A “Bye Theo!” yelled outside of the school. Or, a “Hey! That’s Theo!” at the farmer’s market.

And, then there is this weird and wonderful moment when someone knows your kid. And, this moment is even weirder when it’s not through you.

I am big in highlighting the milestones of parenting that are rarely talked about, let alone celebrated; but, are major. “Underrated Baby Milestones” are what I call them. Think: The day when baby can balance on your hip. Or, the marvelous day when all the bottle pieces are packed away and no longer drying on your counters or tumbling out of you cabinets.

Someone knowing your child is so major; but, unlike the other milestones, this will happen over and over again. And for me, it will likely still be just as major for the rest of my life. Every time I see that my kids are known and loved by someone I know my heart will swell and butterflies will churn in my belly just as they did in that bustling grocery store four years ago.

Because it’s exactly what I want for them.

Many times quotes and sayings about being “known and loved” lean towards faith or marriage. I get it. To be loved, but not known has got to be lonely. And, to be known and not loved sounds terrible. Who wants a creator who knows every little thing about them, but doesn’t love them? And, who wants a marriage with passion, but no truth?

I want these things for my kids in so much more than just marriage, if that is the path they choose. I want them to find that they are known and loved as many places as possible.

The night before our wedding, there were a whole lot of toasts and speeches. I love this about rehearsal dinners because I really enjoy the act of eulogizing one another while we are alive. It’s truly one of my greatest joys and I think we should do it more often.

That night, as we spoke, our parents spoke and our friends spoke, I became overwhelmed in the best way. We were so cared for and loved.

But, when Adam spoke about his groomsmen with ease and love and laughter and a couple tears it really hit me. It was something I had known– of course– but, I saw it in action that night. It was that great man is a fantastic friend and he has his own fantastic friends, but he chose me.

He wants to know and love every little part of me. He wants to be my best friend.

This Thanksgiving, even though it’s small and different, I know we have so much to be thankful for. Our health and that of our family. Our home and the space it affords us. Our jobs. Our kids. Our friendships and the great people who know and love us. And, each other, of course. 

But this year I am also really, really thankful for the people who know and love our kids.

This year, showing this love and care for our kids looks different than it has ever before.

It’s different in fun ways because they are now older and talking. They are even interested in things that a grown up might be interested in, or at minimum, open to chatting about. Theo can talk with my brother for hours about Pokemon and Star Wars. Savannah will happily catch up with my girl friends over cocktail hour— so long as there is a cheese board with prosciutto and the stinkiest blue cheese. A conversation starter if there ever was one…!

However, in a lot of ways thing are different and a bummer. Loving and getting to know my kids this year is hard.

If we are able to get together, there is a risk involved. That does not go unnoticed. Thank you for being a part of our bubble and giving our children a small village. 

And a huge thank you to their teachers. The other adults they see on a regular basis who are helping them to know and love so much. School, Baby Yoda, food and especially other humans in their great lessons on kindness.

But, if we aren’t able to connect this year because of travel or health concerns the love and care is still there. You have gotten creative to show love and care and it is so special.

There have been Zoom birthday party invites.

So many FaceTime calls. Videos texted of your dogs doing something silly and your kids singing, “Happy Birthday.”

And, so many presents sent in the mail. Games and crafts. Advent calendars and winter coats.

Cupcakes left on your front porch for them as we drop farm things off.

Books read to them or stories told over Zoom so I could focus on getting something done.

Help given even from afar and in Facebook mom groups when big questions came up about 9/11.

And then just recently, there were videos of people New York City, Chicago, and Washington DC the day the election was called. Videos of people cheering.

A sound— that I didn’t realize until it captivated my kids— that my kids have heard very little of. And, because of their age, they may have no memory of.

I asked for more videos and they came in in droves via text and Instagram DM. Each one enchanting my kids with the sounds of happy, joyous cheers.

They have only been to one Purdue game and I splurged for a box last minute because it was pouring. 

This would have been the year for the real game day experience. Maybe even a Colts game. A trip to Chicago to see the Cubs. Maybe even the Nutcracker. Heck, at this point, I would be open to some Disney on Ice.

This may have been the year for a dance recital. Little League or soccer games. Pre K Christmas programs and even graduation.

They have not had these things. And so, they really have not heard the sounds of a crowd– of people– cheering.

But, like faith and the feelings of being loved and known, sometimes just because you cannot see things doesn’t mean it’s not there.

Thank you for loving, knowing and cheering for my kids.

I am so thankful for you.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Oh. And PS- Just so we are clear: If you keep this up, prepare for me to be an absolute mess when when you all come over for BBQ after their graduation.