You Can't Argue With That Logic

Big Love, my 3 1/2 year old, was in the bathtub when I saw him slip something in his mouth. He did it kind of on the sly (well, as much as a 3 year old can). I said, "What do you have in your mouth?"

Long pause. "A booger."

Me: "Buddy. It came out of your nose. Your body doesn't need it anymore! You don't want to put it back in!"

Him: "But now it will come out of my butt."

Well..... true.

The Retirement Home

In a world where every man, woman and child is out for themselves, can you teach compassion? I have been wondering about this and struggling with it for some time now, especially as my children grow up.

When I was young, it was pretty easy to learn. I grew up on a farm and I was surrounded by neighbors who were better off or worse off than I was. In the small town, you learn how to take care of each other. And even if it is done reluctantly, it is done.

In our current neighborhoods though, you don't tend to be surrounded by those who are worse off than you are. We live in a world where you are able to avoid those less fortunate. Our neighborhoods are not designed so that we "mingle" with the less fortunate. So how can we reproduce it for our kids?

I have been going to the local Presbyterian Home with my kids. I wouldn't say it's something I do on a regular basis, but it's definitely something I want to do more of. I especially feel that way when I reflect on how my children behave.

EPT just crawls around, pulls himself up at people's wheelchairs and waves, smiling the whole time. BL says hi to people and asks them how old they are (and amuses them with his shock when he can't figure out how many fingers that is).

Today, we went to play bingo with some of those who are bit higher functioning and don't have relatives to visit them. EPT crawled around while BL actually sat at a table with 5 women and helped them place the bingo chips on their cards. It was really sweet. I loved watching him make conversation about how cute his brother was, what color their sweaters were and what their favorite cookies were. And I just love watching how the residents light up when they see my kids.

And after we finished playing bingo, we ate some cookies. Alex is a firm believer in tearing an Oreo apart to eat the creme middle. And what was he doing for the lady next to him? Taking her Oreos apart so she could eat them the same way he was. Born leader. And it would have made an adorable commercial.

It's interesting for me to reflect how awkward I sometimes feel at these gatherings. These are people I don't know and don't know me. Now that we've been there a couple of times, some of the faces are familiar to me. But they don't remember me from time to time. In fact, one lady in the hallway asked me if EPT was someone's doctor.

But my children respond with such compassion that it inspires me. One lady, who just sat and started at BL for an hour and said, "You're precious" about 45 times was a favorite of his. As she was leaving he said, "I like your blue chair" about her wheelchair. And she smiled.

That made my day.

If the Name Fits....

Sometimes I feel there are so many forces in the world that are against us as parents. Strangers, pedophiles, scam artists. But sometimes it is the simple mean old man that is the worst threat.

I went out to lunch today with two friends. Three moms and six kids aged four and under. Five of the six kids were boys (meaning - raise the noise level expectation!). It's not like we chose the nicest place in town. We picked a local diner. It was just down the street from the park we just had a play date at.

Now, I need to preface by saying that I have been a mom for 3 1/2 years now. And in that time, my eating out choices have diminished to just fast food and buffet. Wouldn't it be nice to have someone bring me my food for a change? Just this once! And my expectations are not high. I won't be ordering the steak...

So we were seated in a room off by ourselves. And yes, there were times that the noise level was high. But five boys are only amused by stickers and crayons for so long. We were able to hold them in check for quite some time.

But we reached the point where we knew it would all end soon. And I am a firm believer in not subjecting other people to any temper tantrum that might erupt from my children. So my one friend ran out to find the waitress and let her know that we were nearing our limit.

Except she came back to the table crying. A man had told her that she had a "bunch of very bad kids back there." Um. Excuse me? Bad kids? Honey, you ain't seen nothing.

The poor waitress came over while the mom was still crying and we were trying to comfort her and calm our children. She said, "Don't worry about him. I can't say it in front of your kids, but his name is appropriate."

I knew immediately. D-I-C-K. So I said, "Don't worry about him. Just feel bad for his grandkids." And the waitress said, "He doesn't have grandkids.... or kids."

Right. Beware of the bitter old man who never had kids and always had peace and quiet. Suddenly, I didn't want to protect him from my children's outbursts. I wanted to protect my children from HIM.