Wax Museum

I've decided that I'm going to use my vast knowledge of science to create a method to freeze dry Eliot at this stage and preserve him like in a wax museum. (But not as creepy as the wax museum statues).

This wise decision was made after having two conversations in the last 24 hours. One about a student in high school who spent the summer in rehab (drug related,not physical therapy) and the other on what it's like when you first experience watching your child experience rejection/disappointment, etc. Not to mention all the blogs in the last week showing off pictures of my friend's children going off to school.

Nope. Not us. We're not doing it. Not any of it. We've got a good thing going here.

However...the thought of Eliot wearing a backpack containing a cool pencil box and a fresh box of crayons, grinning at his very lucky teacher each morning makes me giddy.

Such a conflict of emotions, this parenting gig.

On our gotcha day we went out for Ted Drews and there was a little family sitting on the bench next to us with several young kids. Eliot wanted to play with them and the older boy, probably 4 years old, kept trying to get away from him. But not in a playful way, in a mean kinda way. Eliot had no idea the kid was such a tool, I mean...uh...that the kid wasn't comfortable with new friends. My immediate reaction was sad that this kid was missing out on playing with the coolest kid on the planet. I actually wasn't sad that Eliot experienced a little rejection. Is that awful? In reflection, I'm not sure if it's because he was clueless resulting in no hurt feelings, or if I'm just that okay with Eliot experiencing trials as long as they're little. I hope that we can raise him to understand that he's loved beyond measure, hemmed in on all sides with enough security that the little things won't hurt as bad?

File this entry under "Lofty, naive, new parent thoughts."

I spent enough time as a classroom teacher to know the truth behind "kids will be kids." I know someone will be mean to eliot and his feelings will be hurt( or maybe not since he'll be shaving by second grade, who knows?). I just don't think I'll be the parent who requests Eliot's chair to be on the other side of the room or that he be placed in a different class the next year. If we always swoop in and save the day, will he ever learn how to deal with disappointment/sadness/bad choices others make that effect him? I would rather him learn effective ways to problem solve while the disappointments are small before he's out on his own using unhealthy ways to deal with it and we're not there to save the day.

Again, just processing here.

All I know is that I need to limit his time with Pastor Mike. I mean, seriously. Take a look at Mike's idea of a good time at our garage sale...



Maybe this is the solution for all bullies: