Mama, look at this!
Mama, watch me!
Mama, what's ...
Mama, can I...
It's been getting on my nerves, so much that I've pulled him up on using the word "Mama" too much.
How dare I?!
I'm ashamed at myself, trying to stop this excited little boy get my attention.
God knows the baby gets my attention just by breathing, and here's this fantastic little boy starting to read, write, make things, invent characters, games, creating a whole world of fantasy and fun, and I'm giving him the impression that I'm too busy to take notice.
Look, actually look, not just at the start of the dance, the tumble, but at the whole thing.
Too often he's finished his little show, and sighed with resignation that he lost me somewhere along the way.
What can be more important than this?
Facebook, my magazine, a cup of tea, a pot of soup, a ponytail?
Get real, Niamh, you have one chance to be a great mom, an attentive mom to this boy, and you're losing out.
You do the big gestures, the bedtime story, the snuggles on the sofa, the hot chocolate with marshmallows, but you're failing at the tiny things. They are as important to him as the big ones.
Listen to the jokes that have no punch line, but more imagination than you can muster to keep up with them. Listen to the song that's had it's lyrics re-worked with a clever play on words. Listen to the dream he had, the game he played with his cousin, the idea he has for a Halloween costume.
Because if you keep cutting him off, he'll stop telling you.
I couldn't handle that.
So here I am, boy, I'm all yours.
I will stop, get down on your level, make eye contact, and give you those ten or twenty seconds that are so precious to us both.
Thank you again Charlie, for making me a better person,
I love you,