A little background information: When Tim and I talk about "love languages," we are referring to a book (now a series of books) by Gary Chapman. He theorizes that each of us is innately inclined to give and receive love in a certain way, and we are most likely to feel loved when others demonstrate their love for us according to our main "love language(s)." He identifies five "love languages," which are: time spent together, affirming words, physical touch, gift-giving, and acts of service.
So the other day we were discussing the way that Daniel frequently hangs off of me, and Tim said (only somewhat sarcastically), "Do you think touch could be his love language?" I agreed that that is very probable (although there may be other dynamics going on as well). And then while I was on the subject of love languages, I realized that acts of service seem to be important to Daniel as well. Again, I don't think it's the only dynamic going on here. Helping people out--which Daniel loves to do!--allows him to be competent, no small matter as he's adjusting to a new family, language, culture, and--oh, yeah--adolescence. And having me do things for him that a mother would normally do for a much smaller child allows him to experience "growing up" in our family, which he very much wishes he could have done. But a couple of incidents recently stand out to me.
Back in the early fall, I had bought five or six long-sleeved shirts for Daniel. I didn't want to overbuy, since I don't know how much he will grow this year. And at the time he was only changing his clothes every two to three days, so I thought the number of shirts I had bought would be more than enough. But now that he has discovered the joys of a morning bath, he is changing clothes at least once a day, and if I don't keep a close eye on my laundry schedule, we are in danger of running out! And on one particular evening, I discovered that Daniel had no clean long-sleeved shirts. T-shirts, yes. Sweatshirts, yes. But nothing that would be just right for the next day's weather. So, shortly before bedtime, I headed downstairs to start a load of laundry. It was a nuisance, but nuisances come along with the territory when you're a parent. So I didn't think much of it, but when I told Daniel that I was doing laundry so that he would have the right kind of shirt to wear the next day, he looked super happy and told me "thank you." And it occurred to me that before he became part of our family, he probably wore whatever happened to be available when he got up, even if it was not quite the right weight or size or style. (He has told me--when I asked--that in the orphanage the kids didn't have individual wardrobes; they all shared a pool of clothes, and he didn't like it because some of the kids didn't keep the clothes clean.) So it seemed to mean a lot to Daniel that I would do extra work just so that he could wear a just-right shirt.
This thought was reinforced the next day when, without being asked, Daniel finished loading up the dishwasher, ran a load of dishes, and then put them all away. This is a chore that he will do when requested, but I know he doesn't enjoy it. And when I thanked him, he said, "Because I love you."
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