“Today all my friends are having a huge playdate with Nerf guns and everything!” my son, Oliver, exclaimed with excitement recently. A wave of concern washed over me.
I prepared for a conversation about his feelings regarding not being included. “Are you feeling left out because you weren’t invited?” I asked gently.
“Nah, I’m fine,” he replied, then shared all the fun activities they had planned. It struck me that he genuinely felt joy for his friends, not a hint of jealousy or disappointment. Time and again, I found myself wondering, where did this child come from?
Parenting a child with an old soul can be both enlightening and humbling. I recall a lunch date when Oliver was just two years old. I was preoccupied with my own sadness, trying to mask it for his sake. He sensed it, looked into my eyes, and reached out to touch my cheek with his tiny hand. In that moment, I felt completely seen, as if he could peer into my very essence. And yet, he was just a toddler.
His calm demeanor astonishes me daily. This morning, as we scrambled to locate his homework, socks, snow boots, and snack—amid the chaos of my frantic energy—he remained unfazed, skipping happily to the school bus.
“Why is he so endlessly cheerful?” I asked my partner, Mark, my hair frizzing from the stress of our morning routine.
“He just is,” Mark replied, and he was right. Oliver can be forgetful about his belongings, but his happiness is a constant.
He exhibits remarkable patience towards his younger sister, Lily, often translating her toddler-speak for me. It’s as if he has a unique connection to her that I lack. When she falls, she seeks him out for comfort, ignoring me completely. He gathers her in his lap, soothing her while they pretend to battle imaginary foes. Just yesterday, he told her, “I really enjoyed playing wizards with you today. You’re a blast to hang out with.” My heart swells; with such tenderness, he’s setting a standard for how she will expect to be treated by others.
Our household is filled with emotions, and Oliver carries a deep sensitivity. He still reflects on our conversations about animal shelters from two years ago. However, like any child, he has his moments—sometimes he lives in a world of his own, where getting him back can be a challenge. He can be quite bossy, often taking on the role of a second parent, and finds it nearly impossible to keep track of his things. Though he rolls his eyes when asked to tidy up his room like any typical 10-year-old, he also possesses a depth of insight that prompts me to ponder life’s mysteries.
But I can’t help but worry about his old soul. I fear that his heart is vulnerable to being hurt, as he loves deeply and openly. I’m concerned that the distractions of our modern world might eclipse his unique perspective, which is why I encourage him to spend time outside, connecting with nature. I worry that his profound feelings might make the world seem overwhelming.
I often question my own parenting skills, feeling like my soul might not be as seasoned as his. Raising an old soul is a journey full of surprises. At three years old, he once told me he had searched for ages for a mom with the perfect voice before he found me.
And I feel the same way, my dear Oliver.
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Summary
Nurturing a child with an old soul can be an enriching experience, filled with joy and profound moments of understanding. Such children often exhibit remarkable emotional depth and empathy, which can foster strong relationships with siblings and others. However, it also brings worries about their sensitivity and the influence of the modern world. Ultimately, the journey of raising an old soul is a shared adventure of love and discovery.