I was at the swimming pool yesterday. I watched my boys as they interacted with the other boys. Bigger boys. Stronger boys. Bigger fish in their small pond.
Eldest Son was the easiest among them. If he didn’t like what was going on, he simply went somewhere else. No argument. No criticism. No judgement. This was not where he wanted to be, so he went somewhere else, looking for a happier spot. I have worked my whole life to be like him.
Middle Son was more incendiary. Boys who were mean to him were playing in the diving well – so he decided NOW was the moment he had to jump from the board (a decision that made the lifeguards ‘clear the well’). He got back at the mean boys, even in a small way, and he felt better. I have spent a good part of my life this way.
Youngest Son moved from moment to moment. He didn’t like what was happening in front of him, so he thought he’d yell at it. That didn’t work. He tried to bargain. (Play with me now and I’ll let you have the ball later…) That didn’t work. Eventually, he followed what he wanted, and jumped in at the right time to play. That worked… until he had to start over. That’s my life in a nutshell.
At this point in my life, I am trying to incorporate my children into my personality. The attack, the retreat, and the mediation. Those are my boys. They change places periodically, which is confusing, but keeps me alive. Sometimes Eldest Son is the attacker. Sometimes Youngest Son is the mediator. Sometimes Middle Son is so sweet he breaks my heart.
I want to be my children. I want to learn the lessons they teach me, and incorporate those lessons into my heart. I want to be young enough to learn.
PS – I know I’ve been gone awhile. I needed some time. I’m still with y’all, though. (Especially Hangar Queen, who I can’t wait to chat with, and Gimme a Minute, who’s removed me from his blogroll, the jerk, but I’ll still read him…)