The Martians Have Landed!

I didn't quite know what to make of my particular situation yesterday afternoon.

Following our appointment, we swung by the local Sonic for a frozen treat when, out of the mouths of babes, came words so often forgotten in our house: "Thank you, Mom". I looked into the backseat...they looked like MY children, their voices were the same, but....using MANNERS!? They handed me their trash instead of dumping it into the floorboards as is so often the case and quietly and happily set to eating their sugary bounty. I responded with a faint "You're welcome" and drove on home trying to figure out who the backseat strangers were who'd replaced my two kiddos.

I just knew it would hit the fan when we got home. Imagine my surprise when it didn't.

My ritual is for the kids to make their beds and pick up their dump, I mean their rooms every afternoon. This is generally accompanied by great, heaving sighs and excessive eyeball rolling. Not so today. I could've eaten off the floor, no lie.

The two of them then sat down with numerous scrapbooks I've done over the years, Paige giving Seth her full attention as he read off each blurb accompanying the pictures. They sat there, heads bent together, as Seth shared memories of Paige as a baby. They hadn't been that sweet with one another since before Paige learned to talk. This strange behavior continued for the remainder of the evening.

This is what I imagined a sibling relationship would be like when I was growing up as an only child. It's all too much to hope for: good manners put into practice, loving words and gestures between sibs...clean rooms. I hope it lasts.

Do you see what I see?

I have a son named Seth. He's a student in your school, maybe in your class. But you don't know him.
He's the squirmy one. The one who can't keep his hands to himself. The talker, the instigator, the thoughtless comment maker. The one who makes his classmates cry. But you don't know him.
He's the boy with the sloppy handwriting. The one who's always in a hurry. The "underachiever". But you don't know him.
You look at him, but you don't SEE HIM. You see the things he does or those things he fails to do. You see every nit-picky, socially "unacceptable" trait he possesses...the wiggling, the zoned-out look of distraction, the irritation he causes his classmates. But you don't see HIM.
Sure, you call or email and encourage us to "talk to him". As if that will help. As if it's our mission to make your life easier. But we do it your way and for a while it works and your world is restored to order. And yet, you still don't know him or see him.
I'll tell you what you're missing. I see a sweet face. I hear a little boy voice coming from a growing boy body. I see a curious child. A creative child who has such a talent for drawing all sorts of things. I see a child who struggles to print legibly but whose cursive is beautiful. I see a brother who by turns will hug and cuddle or push and slap at his sister. I see a jokester and good-natured teaser. I see a taunter and yes, sometimes, a bully. I see an obsessive lover of books. I see a child so frustrated, to the point of tears, because he can't retrieve the data he needs from his ADHD brain.
I see him struggle and know in my heart that he gives everything he's capable of giving. How hard it must be to cope! I hear his quavering voice say "No one see me when I do something good". I do.
How sad your life must be to miss out on TRULY seeing and knowing this boy.
I see him.
I know him.
I love him.