Caterpillar

Yesterday morning walking to school, we encountered a big fat fuzzy caterpillar in the crosswalk.  He was yellow and he was moving pretty darn fast for a caterpillar!

Munchkin immediately saw him and wanted to save him.   There were no cars, so I told him he could pick him up.   He gingerly bent down and tried to coax him into his hand.   It didn't work.

A car came and we exited the crosswalk.   Munchkin yelled to the car not to run over his caterpillar.   I am not sure that there are words to describe his animation and conviction that he used.  Suffice it to say, that had I let him, he would have covered that caterpillar with his body to protect him.  We tried again with a stick, and again, that caterpillar had other plans.

Another car approached and we again exited the crosswalk, this time it was a teacher and she said we could cross, I replied, go ahead we are rescuing a  caterpillar.   She chuckled. 

This time we went with a leaf,  the caterpillar crawled into the leaf in his hand.  He very carefully walked with that leaf and caterpillar cradled in his hands.  He was so cute and so determined to make sure that caterpillar didn't get hurt or scared.  He took it to a tree next to the playground and whispered to the caterpillar.  We went on to put down his backpack and play. 

When I picked him up, he asked me if I made sure that the caterpillar stayed out of the street.  I assured him that I did not see him in the crosswalk. 

This morning, he asked me if the caterpillar would remember his message.  I assured him that he would.  Curious, I asked him, "what did you tell the caterpillar?"

He replied, "I told him when he turns into a beautiful butterfly, to please fly to heaven and tell daddy that I love him"

I am awestruck by my son daily.   I am currently sitting here and being grateful for having such a special and loving child.  He has such an understanding of things that no child should have to experience.   At the same time, I am awed by his grace and compassion.

The Grumpy Lady...

Walking through the mall and Munchkin needs to go potty.  Here is the thing...he is big enough to be independent, however not big enough to go into the mens room by himself.  Not even close.

Last week, a woman actually had the GALL to tell me that my six year old was too old to be using a women's restroom.  Let's me clear.  He was washing his hands.  He had to go...he was not running around peeking under stalls or doing anything that should garner any looks or comments.   He is a little boy who can BARLEY reach the faucet and generally can't reach the paper towels. 

I was flabbergasted.  I stood there for just a moment silent and then I said "I am so sorry that you feel that way.  Have a good day!"  I smiled at her.   She looked shocked and then shot me another dirty look. 

For a split second I was feeling bad.   I felt like I was the one in the wrong.  Then I went and posted the encounter on Facebook and within minutes I was inundated by people commenting that she was way out of line! Whew.  I was relieved.

See as this was happening, I choose to "kill her with kindness" because I didn't want Munchkin to feel like he was in the wrong or out of line in any way.  I did not want to let this strange lady have ANY ounce of control over our day or our life.  When Nate asked me why she was so grouchy, I replied that sometimes people can just be mean when they are having a bad day.  He looked at me funny and told me that it wasn't nice of her to be mean and maybe she should make a better choice.  

Yes my dear, she did need to make a better choice, because our choice is just fine for us!

Perfect Moment Monday-June 2013-Bullseye!

Yes, I know it is no longer Monday...like many things these days, the best of intentions are derailed by playtime.   Here is the thing my six year old Munchkin WANTS to play with ME.  He always has, but at this age, I know this childhood bliss is limited and mom will soon be second fiddle to a whole bunch of things-so I will soak it in while I can!

So here is my perfect moment from the month. 

Munchkin is now a Cub Scout, which means that he was eligible to attend Cub Scout Camp.  He has been looking forward to it for an entire year, ever since his cousin who is a year older went last summer and has raved about how cool it was.  To a six year old that means the world. 

Let me tell you, it lived up to the childhood hype.  The camp was impeccably run.  The kids had a great time.   Now mind you,  my Munchkin was the youngest and smallest one there and also the only one to not have been exposed to a lot of the activities previously as the other first time kids had older brothers in the pack and have been before.  Like Archery for example.

Scouts run things in a manner in which you have to earn things (like arrowheads for bullseyes and bear claws for bullseyes on the bb gun range).  This means that starting out the week, Munchkin had BIG things at stake for a six year old.  When we started, he absolutely could not hit a target to save his life.  He was crushed when he came off that range empty handed.   It did not matter to him that less than 1/2 of our pack earned a prize, all that mattered was that he did not.  He was in tears.  My heart broke for him.  His cousin a year older told him that it would be ok, that by the end of the week he would be able to make a bullseye and get a prize. 

Those words coming from his cousin meant more to me than anything.   That another child would show such open compassion-that is nearly a perfect world.  There was not taunting, no name calling not any of that.  Simply his cousin's arm around his shoulder as he wiped his tears and the two of them walking towards my brother and I. 

And you know what, by the end of the week, he did in fact earn his prize and there was not a prouder kiddo or parent at that camp. 


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Hometown Dairy Queen

We live in a suburb of Chicago.  It is a relatively small town, where most everyone knows everyone else.   Except for the ten years we lived in Texas, I have been here my whole life.   My parents have been in the same house for 31 years.   Many families have been here that long or longer.

One of the rites of passage of summer is going to Dairy Queen or "DQ" as we refer to it.   For as long as I can remember it has been a gathering spot.  When I first moved back, I had run into so many old friends there picking up a cone or dilly bar.   It is one of the perks of being in a small town.  Families gather and share ice cream.  Sports teams go there after games and practices.  It is an institution in the community.  I grew up meeting friends there for DQ.

Tonight, we had dinner then went to mom and dad's so that Munchkin could play with Nana's new puppy--which is an entirely different post.

When we got in the car, he asked to go to DQ.  I acquiesced   Well, while I am used to running into my friends there, I was totally unprepared for my social butterfly to start running into his buddies!  But there they were no less than 4 boys he knows either from school or TaeKwonDo.  

While I visited with the other parents, he visited with his friends.  All was right in the world.  Well, until one of the little boys asked me if Munchkin's daddy really died.  I thought the mother was going to collapse.  I said that yes he did, and the little boy did not believe me.

Now, I have gotten used to the idiocy of grownups in asking dumb questions, but the realization that my son would have one of his friends doubt something that he says.  That hurt.  It made my heart hurt for him.   I know that he doesn't completely grasp things yet, but he will.   One day, he will realize exactly what it means that someone he calls a friend would think that he would make up a story about his dad being dead.

While I know that it  is no reflection on us whatsoever, and I know that this other little boy is likely lucky enough to have no reference point of death in his life, so hearing that someone else lost something as central to his life as a father has to seem incredulous to him, I am not sure that my son will have that same level of understanding when he starts to "get" it.

The mother was profusely apologetic.  At this point my Munchkin was conversing with one of his TaeKwonDo buddies.  She apologized again and her son asked me if he really did die.  The mom and I exchanged a look, I bent down and told him that yes, Munchkin's daddy did die and that sometimes that happens.

The mother thanked me for being so kind and apologized again.  I told her that it was OK  and that her son probably has never known anyone who died so it is a foreign concept to her.  She told me that was true and then again commended me for my composure and kindness.   Really, I was just showing her child the compassion that I would like others to show to mine.