Neat Things About Kids

There are a lot of neat things about kids. Namely, they're kids. They aren't hung up on *whisper* not asking awkward questions. If they want to know. They ask. Until we squish that habit out of them. They will laugh at anything remotely funny. Or gross. Or embarrassing. Pretty much anything will make them laugh. Until, once again, we incorporate "social protocol" into the situation and stifle their laughter. They willingly help when asked, offer when not asked, and wait to be asked. Until we insist that they "do it right". Then, not so much.

But I like kids. And while I do think discussions of ovaries are best not shared in public, and the Top Ten Things That Gross Me Out list should probably be saved for an hour (at least) after eating, I'm good with not entirely squishing things out.

OK, please don't burst into giggles when the elderly man at the table next to us passes gas. Please. Because if you start, your father will start... and one of you will eventually pass gas, at which point the giggles will be so bad someone will fall off the chair. And then there's no help but for me to hide in the bathroom until it's time to leave.

And help is help. It's the love that stems from it, not the end result. To be trite, the end justifies nothing, really. The process is where the meat is, and the end will come of its own accord long, long after we're gone and forgotten. The covers are lopsided, the floor has wet mopped specks stuck to the kickboard, and the TV screen is smeared worse than when it was just dusty. But there's laughter, pride, and effort - and those are the things that will eventually bring the skills up to par. In the meantime, yes, it looks like we hired a maid service from the home for the comatose. It's okay.

Because the kids live here, too. And I'm so, so glad.

When we left Home Depot yesterday, two boys rode in the truck and James decided to ride with me because I had "nobody to talk to except Emily and she just doesn't talk much yet". I'm sure y'all can see that perspective plays a huge role in how that situation could be viewed. But he rode with me, and we had a great time. We talked about what it's like to be a boy and to be a girl. His perspective on what it's like to be a boy cracked me up, floored me, left me in awe, and really warmed my heart. He shared secrets with me (he has secrets?!?!? ack!), and I told Mommy stories. With no other interruptions, it was so nice to reconnect with my sometimes-exacerbating seven year-old. The drive felt rather short this time.

We talked about how important it is to look out for one another, and we played some "what if" games revolving around situations that might arise while playing on the property. I asked him how he would feel if he was doing something dangerous and John came and got help. He said he'd rather John tell him first that it was dangerous and give him the chance to do the right thing. OK, well, what if you were certain it was not dangerous and were determined to do it, but he came and got help? Would you appreciate that he cared enough to keep you safe?

"WOW!" he said, "that's a hard question! If I didn't know it was dangerous, then I wouldn't think he needed to be getting help, and I probably wouldn't appreciate it at all!"

Wow, I didn't think he had the ability to sort through it like that.

And so, the discussion ensued as we drove along the marshes and river bends. It was good. I like having two vehicles, and might see about rotating the boys around so Zorak and I can add in some one-on-one time with each boy over the days. We've missed that, and they've missed the attention that comes from it. If we stay flexible and alert, solutions will avail themselves to us.

And today is a busy, busy day! But right now, Zorak is at work, John is up, and the other two are asleep, so I'm thinking this is prime time for a little one-on-one with this one. I'd love to hear what he has to say.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy