We didn't have the best morning. For the second straight day in a row, Hannah cried, kicking and screaming, on our way to school. I think it started today because I had put her hair in pigtails for her spring pictures, and she wasn't loving the way her cowgirl hat sat atop her pigtails. It escalated from there. We hadn't even left the house yet before I, literally, broke out in a full-body sweat and had to do breathing exercises to remain calm.
To answer your question - yes, she wore a cowgirl hat in her spring pictures. And her pink cowgirl boots. And her plastic, princess necklace. I've learned to pick my battles. Apparently, the photographer thought it was a joke until Hannah was adamant and the teacher let him know I'd said it was okay. "Okay, we can work with that,"he told them. We can't wait to see how they turned out.
Anyhow, this morning was rough, so I was excited that we'd get to go out and play. Soccer practice was canceled due to muddy fields, and so we had plenty of time before I had to start dinner. We started to go for a walk around the block when Jack met a friend from our neighborhood. She is also in kindergarten, although they are not in the same class. She was initially walking a neighbor's dog, and then she was riding her bike around the block, lapping us at least once or twice. I was impressed with the way this little girl was just riding freely through the neighborhood, watching for cars and making new friends. She and Jack chatted a bit, and then she asked him to ride bikes with her. Jack was thrilled, I could tell. Off they went, until I couldn't see him anymore, and I started to panic a bit. I could only move so fast because I also had Hannah on her bike, but we walked around until we caught up. By the time we all made it back to our house, the little girl had disappeared back to her house, but she'd forgotten her helmet on our driveway. Jack eagerly wanted to return it, so we decided to go for another loop around the block, only this time with Hannah in the stroller since her little legs were tired.
We got halfway around the block before the little girl's brother claimed his sister's helmet, and we headed back for home. I had just started to cook dinner when our doorbell rang. There stood the little girl, asking if Jack could play. He was out the door before I could even think of a reason he couldn't go...
They put on their helmets, and they were off, as I rushed Hannah back into the stroller and chased after them as fast as possible. Through my mind were mama questions like, "Is he old enough to ride bikes without me? Does he really know to look both ways? What would Brad do? When is he old enough to play in the neighborhood?" Thankfully, it was right about that time that Brad called while on his way home from work. While gasping for air and running with Hannah in the stroller towards my independence-seeking son, I filled him in. Brad was so happy for Jack - it was adorable. I was scared and shaken, but Brad? He was just proud.
We decided I'd give him the rules and then let him play. I would go home with Hannah. Brad would drive by in a bit to check on Jack and bring him home for dinner. Nervously, I talked to Jack, who was beaming with excitement. Hannah and I set off for home, and she started to cry, loudly. I had to bribe her with nail polish and a mani/pedi to cease the screaming fit she was throwing on the sidewalk.
As I concentrated on painting Hannah's fingernails and toenails, the doorbell rang. And there was my son. Crying because his new friend had pushed him down. He wasn't bleeding, he didn't seem hurt, but he was upset. And I felt awful. I'm sure he has never pedaled his bike as fast as he did on the way home, with his friend and her brother and his friends following behind.
I'm not sure about exactly what happened. I'll never really know how it went down. But I think as Jack gets older, it's going to be so important for him to have these little independent times to himself and his friends. I can't be with him everywhere, and he has to learn how to handle all those tricky situations where, up until this point, I would have likely intervened. We talked about how he could handle a similar situation next time, and we snuggled on the couch as I finished his sister's nails. His feelings were hurt, but more than anything, I think he was scared to be out of reach, if only by a few houses and only for a few minutes.
*****
It's okay, Buddy. The feeling was mutual. You are growing up so fast, and Mama's so proud of you. We'll figure it out together, Love. I promise.
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