There is nothing more that makes me proud of any of my three children than just being themselves.
I have three boys aged from 6 to 15 and they are all individuals, exceeding in different areas with talents and interests that are not the same as each other. That’s what makes them individuals.
There are no words that can describe how much each of them mean to me, I was blessed with three amazing young boys, who, without a doubt, I know will grow into three incredible young men. Being a Mum to these boys has given me a purpose in life and has shown me a new sense of being. They are why my heart beats and why blood runs through my veins. They give me energy like no other.
I am proud of all three of them and even though I tell them how much they all make me proud, the other day my middle boy (I actually hate calling him my middle boy, because they say that it’s always the middle child that gets left out and I am always conscious of that) asked me if he made me proud of him.
These 5 words stung my eyes.
There is nothing more that makes me proud of my boys than who they are. But, obviously my son was feeling a little left out.
We had had a couple of hours together doing something that he absolutely enjoys with a passion, we had gone cycling around the country park. He loves nature and the outdoors. So we spent some time, just him and I, cycling through the park looking at tress, listening to the birds and looking out across the lake at the birds swooping down to catch the fish.
He is such a sensitive soul and the most caring boy I know, he may not be outstanding academically but he is full of knowledge.
He can tell you so much about animals and their habitats. He can talk about them for hours.
He knows all about countries, there flags and where about they are in the world.
He can read a book of 600 pages, re-telling the story with passion, remembering every part of it.
He has his own fashion style, he always likes to look smart and likes to wear quirky clothes. He enjoys being different.
He is adventurous, courageous, intuitive, sensitive and loving.
I could go on describing how perfect he is to me, but like I said there really are not enough words.
I told him all this, all of the above and more.
I told him how much he means to me and that it makes me sad that he even had to ask me if he makes me proud.
I tell him and his brothers often how proud I am of them. Even for the little things. Like offering to hold the door open for someone, carrying my bag when they can see me struggling or for their caring nature.
Being proud of them doesn’t mean that they have to achieve something that is extra-ordinary or special. It’s seeing them grow. It’s watching them achieve personal goals. It’s those small moments that are giant steps of success. I give them praise when it matters and talk about the obstacles that they have overcome.
I held my son so tight and looked him in the eye and told him just look at me, with no words. Because no words could describe how proud of him I was, only the look of love and pride in my eyes could. That’s how we stood. In the middle of a country park, faces cupped into each others hands. Staring into each others eyes. (this in itself was an achievement for my son, as he finds it hard to keep eye contact) After a few moments we let go of our contact and cuddled each other. He just smiled at me and said that he saw the love nd adoration I had for him.
I myself, saw a little boy who was struggling to find a place for himself amongst the world around him. I saw a boy who needed Love. I told him whenever he needs that whenever he is feeling sad and alone to just remember the look in my eyes
I hope now he realises that words are not needed to show how proud I am of him.