Being a House Plant Is Hard Work
Do you know what your love language is? I have two. The first is acts of service. The second is receiving gifts.
I first learned about the idea of love languages a few years ago after reading The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman. The gist is that everyone has a preferred way of receiving love. While this book is based on romantic relationships, there are books in this series about other kinds of relationships. I haven’t read any of those.
Here are overly simplified descriptions of the 5 love languages:
Acts of service: Actions speak louder than words.
Receiving gifts: Receiving a heartfelt gift is what makes them feel most loved.
Quality time: This language is all about giving the other person your undivided attention.
Words of affirmation: This language uses words to affirm other people.
Physical touch: To this person, nothing speaks more deeply than appropriate physical touch.
Now, when I say that my love languages are acts of service and receiving gifts, here’s what I mean. I feel most loved and most cared for when someone takes something off of my to do list without me having to ask or if someone surprises me with a little trinket for no reason. One example of a double-whammy lovey-dovey act is when hubs swings by Trader Joe’s to replenish my weekly salad supply and buys me some colorful blooms because he knows I love fresh flowers in the house. This is an act of service because I don’t have to go to Trader Joe’s. And while the gift is simple, it shows that he was thinking about me. Neither of these two things are a heavy lift. They are not difficult to do. They are not extravagant or expensive. They don’t require a lot of planning. But they go a long way in making me feel loved.
One problem that I see with love languages is that because I like to be shown love in certain ways, I tend to express love in those ways, too. I show my love by taking care of my people. While I’m sure hubs loves that I wash his laundry, cook dinner, and remind him to pick up his prescription at Rite-Aid, it doesn’t necessarily make him feel loved. You know what does? When I sit on the couch with him and watch a movie. Or the Celtics. Or some awful documentary about wolves on the National Geographic channel. Again, not a heavy lift. But dedicating time to hubs makes him feel loved.
Interesting, right? Without thinking about this, we likely walk through life thinking that our people know how we feel about them. But maybe they don’t. The trick is to teach people how you want to be loved and allow them to teach you, too.
Okay. Back to me and acts of service…but this time, it’s about how it relates to parenting. I have recently discovered a new problem with expressing love in my own love language. Well, two actually. 1) I’m not sure what Max and Luke’s love languages are. I suspect Max’s is words of affirmation, but I’m not sure yet. When I tell him I’m proud of him, or thank him for being helpful, I can actually see his posture shift so he stands a little taller. And I think Luke’s is receiving gifts. That boy loves candy from a gas station or a truck from Target. 2) If I show my kids how much I love them through acts of service, by doing absolutely every single thing for them, they aren’t learning to be capable humans.
Mind blown.
I was out of town for a few days last week. While I was gone:
Hubs taught Max how to cook ramen on the stove. I barely allow him to add dry pasta to boiling water.
Max was able to ready himself for school independently. I remind him 4,000 times every morning that he needs to apply deodorant and tie his shoes.
Max took the lead on bringing our puppy outside all weekend long. She didn’t have a single accident over the course of three days. I usually hold the reins of this task pretty tightly. As the mother of two boys, my house smells enough like urine, you know?
This has given me pause and led me to thinking about my approach. A lot. Like, a whole lot. And as it turns out, Max has been showing me that he is growing up and ready to take on more responsibility since probably, like September. I have been ignoring his efforts. And in doing so, I have been holding him back.
Had my eyes not been glued shut, I would have noticed:
Max can plan his own social events with friends.
Max has expressed a desire to shop for his own clothes, and vetoes my purchases.
Max can complete homework assignments on his own.
Max has done an extraordinary job keeping his teeth clean while having braces.
Max remembers to charge his cell phone every night.
Max renegotiates household rules he doesn’t like in well-reasoned debates.
Max challenges insensitive language choices from other people.
Max is able to recognize when he needs alone time and is firm about making that happen.
Max can be trusted to get Luke out of bed and make breakfast on weekend mornings so hubs and I can sleep later.
Suffice it say that my boy is growing up.
I read an article a few months ago about the role of parenting teenagers. Teenagers apparently want their parents to be like potted plants. The idea is that parents make the mistake of pulling away from their kids once adolescence takes hold. They begin working longer hours, or maybe spend more time out of the house socially. What teenagers want, though, is for their parents to stick around. They still want their parents to spend a lot of time at home. They want parents to be like plants - there, hanging out, available, just in case. In this scenario, the parents become the constants. The kids are then free to be the variables.
I always knew the time would come when Max would start morphing into a little man. I knew he would want to spend more time with friends and less time with his parents. I knew he would become more independent with his responsibilities. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.
So now that my relationship with Max is changing, how do I show him I love him? Well, I suppose I need to back up a step and ask him. He is showing me so confidently who he is. Now it’s my turn to let him teach me.
