The Little Things
Kids know how to appreciate the little things.
Eli and I were in the van leaving the neighborhood. I glanced up at the rear view mirror to check on him and saw him leaning forward in his carseat, arching his neck to catch a glimpse of the blue car. Every time we’re leaving the neighborhood Eli wants to see if “the blue car is there?” Little does the owner of that blue car know, they're making his day by simply having parked in the driveway.
He also loves to see the Austin skyline. When we’re driving down MoPac and come to one of the areas where you can see the skyline, he will point out downtown with a shout of, “town down!” You can’t fake the genuine appreciation he has for the sight of something he knows nothing about.
If there was one simple activity Eli could do all day it would be swinging. There’s nothing particularly exciting about it (well, maybe for a kid at first, but come on, after a while you pretty much know what’s going to happen) but he even knows how to appreciate the simplicity and redundancy of swinging.
And don't even get me started on French toast. I used to think I was a fan, but Eli takes this to a whole new level. He learned where it was on the kids’ menu at our favorite cafe so he can point to it and say, "French toast, please." (It doesn’t even have to be a waiter, to him anyone walking by might be able to bring him French toast so he’s going to tell them all). Any day becomes a great day for him when he gets to have French toast. If only egg soaked bread contained these types of day redeeming properties for parents.
If we’re going somewhere and there’s even a slight chance we’ll pass a train, Eli is on the alert. He’s very optimistic because we don’t see trains too often, but he’ll say, “See a train. Maybe.” He’ll hopefully gaze out the window in search of the mundane delight of encountering a train.
His appreciation of the little things has even impacted the way I think about routine inconveniences. For months, stoplights were only two colors to him, “green” and “almost green.” It’s a clever way to frame things. Instead of Monday being the longest day of the work week, it’s now the only Monday between me and Friday. (Ok, it doesn’t always work.)
But seeing how children think and the little things that they latch on to is inspiring. It makes me realize that in a world full of "big things” to focus on, kids are the “little things” we should appreciate.