We go on and on about the nice things in our lives.
We go on and on about how hard we worked to get to where we are.
We go on and on about the challenges we overcame to accomplish something great.
Today, my son sent me a recording.
He was telling his mum about how I broke his heart when I got angry cleaning up his mess. Now, Jakjak's mess is there everyday. It's all over the house, and that's normal for us. I tell him to clean up every chance I get, but I end up doing it anyway. While I don't exactly really get mad, I do get terribly emotional and tend to show that I am not pleased with what I have to do. Jakjak reacts to this differently on different occasions. Sometimes he just doesn't mind me, sometimes he just talks and talks, and sometimes he helps me clean up. (Of course, it isn't all about the mess)
What I didn't know was how this attitude of mine was affecting him. And while he admitted that he gets hurt, he hasn't told me about it. He only tells his mum about things like these. And it doesn't feel right. I have always wanted my son to be able to talk to me, to be able to tell me things. Not just now, but as he grows up. Because I was never like that with my dad. And I wanted to change that with Jakjak. I need to.
I write this because I know that most of us think that we are doing our best in raising our children. I write this because I thought I was doing a darn good job of being a good dad. But in all the effort of keeping things in perspective, in giving our families the best of what we can, we sometimes forget the little stuff that really matters. Listening to our little one's silent voices.
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