Why I’m Glad My Daughter Says She Loves Our Neighbor (Who Is a BOY)

My 7-year-old daughter frequently tells me “I love Wade. I wish he could open the blinds and talk to me from his window.” My response to her is always “I know you do. I can’t wait until you two are teens and talking across the yard.”Don’t judge. I’m not one of those moms who has hand picked her son-in-law. I’m not the mom encouraging her daughter to find a boyfriend at the age of seven. I am however, the mom whose heart melts when I see her with my neighbor’s son.

Wade is our neighbor who, in four short years, has taught my daughter more than she would ever learn from a book.He has taught her patience.He has taught her sign language. He has taught her that although he is not verbal, they have their own way of communicating. Wade has taught her that her hair needs to be in a ponytail or he’s going to pull it. He has taught her the importance of safety gates. He has taught her what physical, occupational, and speech therapists are. Wade has taught my daughter why you don’t leave the front door unlocked. He has taught her why child locks exist on cars and gates are always in front of stairs. He has taught her why you always, always make sure the lid is tight on a sippy cup. Wade has taught her that yes, you can watch the same episode of Duck Dynasty. Over and Over.

This little boy, just four years old, has taught my daughter that she is important to him. Wade has taught her what it is like to be a friend. Wade has taught her to be caring. He has taught her to ask questions .Wade has taught her to not look at others differently, but instead to know we are all different. He has taught her the true meaning of friendship and love.So while these two kids play and have their own language of communicating, all I can do is sit back and watch. I am grateful for not only Wade being in our lives, but for his family accepting my daughter into so much of their daily routine. I know there are days she creates havoc in their home by arriving unannounced and spending hours, but she is welcomed with open arms.
I cannot wait for the day when the blinds are opened, the windows are up, and these two kids are talking across the yards. While I dread the teenage dating years, if I hear an “I love you” between the two of them, I might just let it slide.