When I became a person

How many people in the foreground of this picture have valuable opinions that count?

Most of you out there would likely answer "two," counting the toddler and the adult to whom she's speaking. I think, even on a few moments' reflection, there would be very few who would say "just the adult." The thing that frustrates and saddens me most in the world of parenting are the numbers of people who don't ACT that way.

I live in a house with three other people. I don't live with one other person and two walking baby dolls; I live with three people. Doodlebug and Shmoo won't suddenly become people with opinions that matter when they get jobs or have children or pay taxes or vote; they are people with opinions that matter right now. I like them. I think they're interesting little people, and I want to know what they're thinking and how they feel about our world, the one that we share, all four of us, here in this house where our adventures are based.

Of course I have more knowledge and experience than them, but the jury is still out on whether or not I have more wisdom. I know how to do more things, but I might not know all of the important things. I have a responsibility to keep them safe and offer them as much guidance as I can, but in the end, these are little humans who will grow up to feel that  they are as wise and important as I give them reason to feel.

That picture up there? That's me, around age two and a half. I was in there, in that little head of curls, in that cute little face, figuring out the world around me and how I felt about it. The worth of my opinions did not suddenly grow exponentially when I was able to express myself clearly. For my children, I try to remember that, and to treasure their feelings as I treasure my own. Try as I might, I cannot understand those parents who don't feel that way.