What used to be running for the sake of running, is now more complicated at the age of four, when he's more socially-aware. I see him navigate his way around other kids. He climbs up on a structure, where a girl he has mentioned to me before is sitting by herself. As soon as he climbs up, she gets down. He stays up there alone for a minute, then climbs down, disappearing from my view. A minute later I see him running in circles with another kid. Then he's running by himself--the other kid got distracted and my boy didn't realize he was running alone. He doesn't mind. He keeps running.
And it's not going to get any easier for him. At least for the next 10-15 years, he will continue to navigate his way around other kids, trying to make friends, dealing with rejection... I see him growing up, learning life-lessons before my eyes, and all I can do is reiterate my promise to be there to reassure him and to support him.
I promised myself years ago, before I had kids or imagined what having kids would be like, that when I were a parent, Home would be sanctuary away from the insane, random nature of life for kids. I told myself that when my kids came home from the emotional roller coaster that was school, they would be safe.
And yet I fail. Every day.
I see the teacher calling the kids back to class, and I walk inside to get him. My boy is happy--he's had a good day, he tells me. Then he says something wrong, or he tells his sister something mean, or he walks the wrong way, or he complains about something... And before I have a chance to think, to reflect on my vision of Home as sanctuary, to remember my past promises to my yet-to-be-born child, I lose it. I yell, or let go of his hand, or diminish his self-worth. And before I have chance to think, I've turned Family into yet another obstacle he must navigate around while he keeps on running.
