Eyes Half Open

I see my children every day.  I see them make messes and fight.  I see Corrina's unmanageable hair, Kennedy falling asleep with her finger in her nose, I see Georgia throw a million fits a day. 

I see that they only want to talk to me if I'm on the phone.  I see that they don't like to go to bed and that they only need things from me when I'm trying to take a shower. 

I see that they never like what I make for dinner.  I see that they keep me from sleeping.

Do I really see my children?  Do I see that they are people, individuals? 

Do I see that they have very real thoughts, hopes and fears of their own?  Do I see that they will be (and are now) so much more than just my children? 

Do I see the different hats they will wear throughout their lives?  Do I see that they are so much more than daily inconveniences?  Do I see that it is not my job to tell them what to think, what to want, what to fear and how to live?  Do I see that it is my job to teach them?  To listen to them?  To support them?  To encourage them?