Yesterday as we were saying our nightly prayers, Mike blessed that someone would want to buy our house. As soon as the prayer was over, Preston said, "No Daddy! I love this house! I don't want anyone to buy it." We tried explaining to him that we were moving to Utah and would get a new house there. He asked if we were coming back. I told him no. He looked right in my eyes, his own eyes filling with tears and croaked out, "Never?" It was so sad. Then he started giving me the lip. I tried to comfort him, but this is the first time it dawned on him what was happening. Maysen had a really hard time moving here. She was three months older than Preston when we moved to Georgia. That's crazy. It sure seemed like she was a lot older.
Speaking of moving, we spent the day packing, packing and packing. Mike came across something I had saved from Stockton. He wrote it when he was really little, before he was in school. The first paper said:
LOOK
LOOK
LOOK
On the back he drew a picture of us and wrote I LOVE YOU MOM LOVE STOCKTON.
The second paper I had was also from Stockton. I think he wrote this one even earlier than the last. It was written in red crayon and took up the entire page. He said, I LOVE MOM I LOVE YOU I NO IT IS NOT GOOD TO BE ON THE TABLE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU IM GOOD NOT BAD LOVE STOCKTON.
For the record, I have never told Stockton he was bad. I have never even told him anything he has done was bad. I have been very conscious of this because in my child education classes in college I was taught that if you told a child something they did was bad, then they would internalize that they were bad. I was taught to always give specific reasons as to why I was saying no. For example, that is not safe...this is where we eat and your feet are dirty...the chandelier can break if you swing on it. (The last one happened in Washington.)
The point is...I thought it was a sweet note Stockton gave me, but I'm baffled as to why he thought I would think he was bad. Kind of breaks my heart.
2 comments:
Steph, I was cleaning out old papers and came across quite a few notes from my kids at various ages. I was in shock, was I really that horrible that they felt I didn't cherish them? I decided they must have just written when they were upset!?!?!
I've always wanted to swing on a chandelier!
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