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A few days ago, I decided to leave a little note in my almost 7-year-old son’s lunchbox. The “You’re the best kid ever” kind of note. He is growing up so quickly, I thought I would take those splinters of moments to let him know I love him even when I’m not with him. In coming years, he might not want me to be so openly expressive, but I figured I’d get to that when I got to it. Not today. Not yet.
For now: one sweet note. Short. No complicated vocabulary. A small offering for that piece of my heart walking around outside my body.
A few days later, I asked him about the note.
He had received them. They were sweet, but when he said it, the mama-love sweetness spilling all over his sunflower seed butter and jam sandwich hadn’t been so sweet. It wasn’t okay.
“Mama,” he said, “It’s just private.” My outpouring of feelings was supposed to be private. Instead, it had been embarrassing. Kids gently made fun of him, but he got it, and I got it, too.
“So, I can’t leave you sweet notes?” I queried, my heart quavering.
It was a resolute NO.
“What about a picture? Can I leave you a picture? Toothless [from How to Train Your Dragon]?” I know he loves dragons, and he loves Toothless.
No.
“A maze?” He loves mazes and creates his own, rife with dead ends and squiggly lines.
No.
“What can I leave?”
He took the opportunity. “A toy.”
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“You want me to leave a toy in your lunchbox,” I paused. There was a reason for a toy. It certainly wouldn’t embarrass him, “ . . . so you can make the other kids envious?”
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I imagined buying him some cheap toy from CVS or Walgreens. Then, many toys. Toys were definitely not my love language. I like a well-intentioned gift, but they don’t light me up in the same way some good quality time does.
“You want me to leave a toy in your lunchbox.” I paused. There was a reason for a toy. It certainly wouldn’t embarrass him, “ . . . so you can make the other kids envious?”
YES.
His yes was met with my ugh. No love notes. No sweet or silly pictures. No mazes. My mind scurried.
“What about a joke? Can I leave a joke?”
Yes!
And jokes it was. I told him, “When you receive it, you’ll know it’s just my way of saying I love you but without a sweet note.”
He nodded. My heart melted.
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A friend of mine suggested jokes were his love language. I think it might be true.
The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman are a very simple but effective way of looking at how people like to give and receive love and what has the strongest impact on them. These love languages are:
- words of affirmation—for example, “I love you.”
- quality time—for example, giving someone your undivided attention
- acts of service—for example, lending a helping hand
- physical touch—for example, holding hands, massage, etc.
- giving gifts—for example, flowers, trinkets, etc.
Here is an online quiz to help you figure out your love language.
For my son, jokes are part of words of affirmation. He also loves physical touch. I know if we snuggle up, he feels very loved.
Armed with his love language plus a new awareness of his friends, I sought out a joke to leave in his lunchbox. Here is what I left:
Why is 6 afraid of 7?
Because 7, 8, 9.
That was my love note. Not exactly how I thought it would be, but that’s how love is: unexpected, funny, tricky, but when it lands well, it melts through the heart and leaves one a bit better than before.
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Stock photo ID:1156803635
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Excitement and disappointment playing tag. At first glance I assumed your article was by a man, and congratulated myself on being part of the ongoing growth of male emotional expression. Then I realized you’re a girl, of course, and fell away into the imagined loss of importance always waiting. Then came an insight that even females, so good and easy and accomplished at emotional exchange are still learning. Even a smart and loving mom is learning. Then acceptance that I am learning from a mom doing what my own mother didn’t know how to do. Your son, his mom, we… Read more »
Interesting comment, Robert. Thanks for sharing. I think parenting is a tremendously growthful path, and I am always learning. The danger comes in thinking that while I am emotionally fluent, I have nothing to learn. In that, my son is a great teacher. A small side note–in your language, you mention you thought this was written by a man, then realized I’m a “girl.” I notice a lot of people slipping into this (regardless of gender) and wonder where it comes from, that’s okay to refer to a man, but in the same breath, refer to a woman as a… Read more »
Great article. I guess the tricky thing is knowing whether you are attempting to show someone you love them in your own language rather than theirs. The only way to know is to observe closely or ask. I wonder if love languages can be learned? Could I for example learn someone else’s language for myself – actually enjoy the experience of something I didn’t enjoy before?
Such a great question! In another article I wrote, called “Loving the Woman Who Needs More Than You Can Give,” I wrote the following: For me, the surprising part about love languages was finding that my love languages are totally different from my husband’s, so every time he would fix something around the house, he would code it as loving me (an act of service); I would code it as being helpful. When I would hug and kiss him (physical touch), I was loving him, but getting him a cup of coffee (an act of service) touched him more deeply.… Read more »