Yesterday Henry and I went to have lunch with one of my favourite people ever.
She lifted my boy high in the air and said over and over ‘you are so loved. You are so loved. You are so loved’.
I just thought you couldn’t tell a baby anything better than that.
I often catch myself asking him, as I come back into a room where he is, ‘are you being a good boy?’ I don’t mean it – he doesn’t yet have the capacity to be a good boy or otherwise, and he can’t tell what I’m saying beyond the tone of voice anyway – but it’s just a way of saying ‘hello, I’m here – no need to panic’. It strikes me, though, that he can’t be far off understanding actual words, and that what I say to him will be significant sooner rather than later.
I do want him to be good, of course – and unfortunately (for him) I am not the type to put up with any messing. But I want him to feel that he is loved before he has a name for it. Right down in the centre of himself, alongside ‘Daddy is awesome’ and ‘boobs = yay’. I would like it to be the starting point for everything he does.
Because if the starting point is ‘I am so loved’, then I think the finishing point will be something to see.