Hearing aid

We're at that busy time of the year, where school routines have settled down and sports training has just started up. It's going to be a busy year for us with netball, soccer, swimming and young innovators (coding and computer stuff).

I love the kids to have the opportunity to experience things and discover what talents and passions they may have. I'm also always conscious that they need time to chill out and be bored, because when they get bored and are forced to used their brains this is when they discover the really good bits about themselves.

I don't want the kids to be overloaded with extracurricular activities, as they get worn out enough with school. Still there's always that creeping doubt or guilt or something in the back of my mind "What if they are dancers/cellists/rock climbers and I've never given them the opportunity to discover that?" Oh what a privileged problem to have, I know.

In reality, though, all they really want the most is our time. Just to sit and chat and work the world out. I get that. All any of us really want, at any stage of life, is to have the people who mean the most to us just listen to our thoughts, feelings and dreams. I've been trying to have some time with each of the kids every day to do this. Just chat. Or laugh. Or discuss. Mainly, just to listen. It's so easy to neglect this, when there is so much other stuff that needs to be done, ticked off and crossed out. Or sometimes you're just not in the mood to hear about what Oliver did at morning tea, how this Lego set is awesomeness or how terrible it is that they can't have a playdate every day of the week. The results also mean that the kids are just so much happier and easier to deal with when they've had these chats. These moments to be listened to. When big sister isn't butting in or little brother isn't yelling over the top. When they're more than just one of the kids, battling to be heard.

More and more, I'm beginning to realise that this is how they develop who they are and their place in life. Just as much as joining a team or playing an instrument or perfecting a plie.

My middle girl and I had a conversation the other day about the difference between listening and hearing. We agreed that it's easy to hear anything, but it takes much more to really listen to something or someone. I then realised that my 8-year-old was actually teaching me something.

Having kids is noisy, I know of a dad who wears earplugs just to block out the racket of having kids. I know that I relish the quiet for a few minutes in the morning after the kids have gone and I eat my breakfast between the remnants of bowls of Weet-Bix, toast crumbs and homework sheets. It's so quiet that my ears begin to ring. But when they are here, I need need to make sure at times that I step through that noise and listen to the words. Drown out the "It's not fair!" and listen to the much quieter: "I'm worried that my friends think I'm strange". Hearing the "I don't want to go to bed yet" but listening to the "I'm so happy that I reached next reading level".

Looking back I think there are many times I've heard their words, but probably haven't really listened to them. Often the day becomes an obstacle course, all the traps and hurdles put in front you to dodge and weave, that I'm focusing on the finish line and blocking out everything else. Just trying to reach that moment when I can clock off before it starts again.

The other day on Facebook one of those memories popped up of Lil-lil at one wearing her first pair of proper shoes. I smiled as I remembered how proud she was of those shoes and how she kept lifting her feet up to look at them. It felt like such a short time ago. Then it suddenly hit me, if I fast-forward the same amount of time, she will be an adult. So here and now is the time to both hear and listen.

Image: FreeImages.com/Ian McKend