Monday, I was at my doctor’s office when I got into one of those casual conversations with a random stranger that turns suddenly and briefly authentic. My doctor’s assistant was chit chatting about her ten-year-old daughter while she took my blood pressure and verified my medical history. She’s a single mom and she was telling me what it’s like raising her daughter while living with her own mother and two younger siblings.

“I think it’s great that you’ve been able to surround yourself and your daughter with so much family,” I said. “So few kids have the privilege of growing up that way.” 

She smiled kind of absently as she stared at the cuff. “Yea. We are really lucky. My daughter loves her Grammy.” Then she suddenly looked me full in the face, eyebrows high. “Do you know what she said to me the other day? She said, ‘When I get old, will I stop loving things?’”

“She asked if she would stop loving things?” I’ve never heard a kid ask a question like that.

“Yea. She said, ‘I love so many things. I love ice cream and riding my bike and playing with the dog and singing with my friends. But Grammy doesn’t seem to love things the way I do.”

Kids Experience the World with Such Obvious Joy and Wonder

We sat quiet with that for a bit, both, I think, pondering the wisdom and insight of ten-year-olds, before the moment passed.

“So I just told her,” she said, pulling down my sleeve and reading to leave the room, “I told her, you can love things all you want. You can be whatever kind of old person you want to be.” 

I thought it was a pretty damn profound thing for a ten-year-old to contemplate. I love out loud, she was saying. I twirl in the grass and climb onto my friends’ backs and live for snow days. If you don’t do those things, do you still love the way I do? When I’m your age, will I love less?

Adults, Not So Much

This kid wasn’t talking about people love, I don’t think. It seemed pretty clear to me – even from the fact that she felt free enough to pose such an existential question – that she was growing up in an enriched environment so far as people love goes. 

I think she was talking about love of experience. Love of the world.  Joie de vivre. The kind of delight and joy kids take in even the smallest most fleeting bits of life, the ones adults rarely seem to notice at all. Seeing a hummingbird or catching a frog or practicing a dance move with their friends. The pleasure of being and feeling and sharing that fills the better part of a ten-year-old’s overflowing cup. 

What If Our Kids Have Noticed?

This little story has been resonating with me since I heard it. It reminded me, again, how carefully and constantly our kids are watching us. But it also reminded me that what kids see is filtered through kid-sized lenses. To a kid, a lot of the things that adults love look like . . .  well, punishments. Going to bed early. Getting socks or gift cards for Christmas. A clean house. Saving money. 

When you’re enjoying your favorite hour of the week sitting on the porch, sweet tea in hand, eyes closed, head tilted back to catch the breeze, your kids are probably not thinking, Looks like Mom’s having a blast! Let’s get in on that action! No. They’re thinking, Mom’s asleep! Let’s drink from the hose!

Knowing that this is how at least some kids see their looming adulthood – as boring or, God forbid, gloomy – I thought, how can we right that misperception? The easiest and most obvious way, of course, is to join our kids in the creek or catching fireflies in glass jars. Or reach way back into the hinterland of our memories and resurrect some of the things we used to love out loud when we were their age.

Hopscotch. Jump rope. Braiding one another’s hair on the sidewalk. Playing flashlight tag in the dark and listening for the sound of the ice cream truck with a few crumpled dollar bills in your pocket. Whether we join them in the things they love – or ask them to join us in the things we loved – we’ll at least show them that joy, as they understand it, is not an age-limited proposition.

But kids are smart. It won’t take them long to notice that you never make gigantic hula hoop bubbles with your friends, once again begging the question: do adults love things as much as kids do?

What If They Think That Loving Things is Just for Kids?

Let’s face it, loving the momentary joys in our day looks a lot different from this side of the jungle gym. We’re a lot more likely than kids are to find joy in a long, leisurely shower, or the opportunity to do nothing, or a good cup of coffee. We’re a lot less likely to show that joy by skipping through the neighborhood or letting rhubarb pie dribble down our chins. I think it’s understandable that kids don’t really know what loving things looks like for an adult. 

On top of that, we adults have a bit of a complaining problem, I think. With making everything we do, even things we really enjoy doing or take great satisfaction in, sound like a chore. I need to cook dinner right now. I really should go for a run this afternoon. Mommy and Daddy have to go to work because that’s how we make money.

I think we sometimes default to this kind of language because we want our kids to believe that we wouldn’t be parted from them unless we absolutely had to. That only obligation could tear us away from their adorable little faces. That doing something just because we want to is a teensy bit selfish. But is this really the image we want to give our kids of adulthood? That it’s duty-bound, full of obligation and virtue, devoid of the little moments of satisfaction and joy that kids relish so openly? 

I don’t think so.

As Adults, We Need to Focus Some Attention on the Little Things That Make our Days Shine

I think what we really want our kids to know is that adulting – this thing they’re destined for, this thing we’re helping prepare them for every day, this thing they’ll spend the vast majority of their life doing – is fun. It’s full of things to love. Going for a long walk in the woods is at least as good as twirling in the grass. A beachside barbeque with friends is the adult version of flashlight tag. Having a meaningful career is somehow evocative of afternoons spent studying ladybugs and building blanket forts. 

I think we do our kids a favor when we openly acknowledge and obviously savor the things we love. They may not have the slightest idea why solving sudoku or watching a sunset or lighting a fire fills you with contentment, but I think you should let them see that it does. It doesn’t matter what it is. My grandmother absolutely adored ironing. My son takes great pleasure in spraying the patio for weeds. It’s a small love, I’ll admit, but finding a perfectly folded towel waiting in the cabinet definitely makes me feel that all is right with the world.

And We Need to Share Those Little Things With Our Kids

I don’t know if she realized it, but this mom was doing something very right – and got very lucky, too – that her daughter came to her with such a big question. Imagine if she hadn’t, if this observant little ten-year-old, noticing that young people seem much more exuberant about the world than older ones, had kept her dark assumption to herself: that adults experience a dimmer world than kids do. That the grass doesn’t smell as good to them and the sun doesn’t feel a warm to them and the donuts don’t taste as delicious. That it’s all downhill from here. Bleak, right? Thank God she asked.

You might not be so lucky. Maybe you should make the things you love a regular part of conversation with your kids. I don’t think you’ll have much trouble getting your kids to wax poetic on the topic. You might have to give it a little thought, though. 

So We All Have a Better Shot at Growing Up to be the Kind of Old People We Want to Be

As adults, we tend to lean into big happys. Our family. A promotion. A trip. We can lose sight of the little things that that add shimmer to our days. Catching all the lights on the way into work. Pumpkin spice season. The one week in early spring when everything outside seems to roar back to life. We should take a page from our kids’ book and focus on these shining little moments, then tell our kids about them. It’ll not only let them see little loves from your perspective, it’ll give you all something fun to connect over.

You made that light, Dad! Good for you!

Most importantly, this little girl’s innocent question reminded me of something young moms can never seem to be reminded of enough: when you dedicate some time and energy to the little things that make you happy, you’re not just doing something good for yourself. You’re giving your adult child permission to do the same. You’re modeling joy. You’re showing your kids – much more effectively than you could ever tell them – that loving things is a matter of attention and appreciation, and we can always choose to love more. No matter how old we are.