Our eldest, nine years old, and I were at the table last night around 10 p.m. I was letting him stay up late for no reason other than that it is nice to spoil a child now and then. If I spoil all four at once, they seem to gang up on me and expect it more often. If I spoil only one at a time, it is our secret, so nobody finds out about it. Spending time with them one-on-one is one of my favorite things to do, and yet I have to talk myself into noticing that I haven’t done it in a while! Why is that??
Anyway, our boy decided to make some hot chocolate. He was sitting at the table, noisily slurping it from a spoon. I was engrossed in a book but decided to put it down and join him. I wondered where our conversation would go, as it always leads to interesting places when he is my companion.
To start it out, I asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
The answer changes almost weekly. He said, in a too-mature voice, “Well, actchically (he says “actually,” his favorite word, wrong every time), I’m not sure. I might be an inventor, though.“
I said, “Oh, my, you’d make a great inventor,” as I do about all of his chosen occupations. We talked for a while about inventions and things to invent and inventors.
After a lull in our conversation, I heard myself say, “I want to be a writer.”
Brenden, still lost in inventor-thoughts, absentmindedly murmured, “Oh, yes.”
“Wait a minute!” He looked at me full in the face, alert. “You already are a writer!”
There is not a book with my name on it; there is not a magazine masthead with “Lori Seaborg” on it; there’s not even yet an e-book with my name listed as the author…
But our boy thinks I am a writer simply because he sees his mama write.
There is nothing like a child to see you for who you are or for who you have the potential to be.
– Lori Seaborg
originally published for my Keeping the Home blog, 2004