Didn't he just start preschool?!
What am I going to do when he comes home and tells me how some dumb little kid was mean to him?! I'm not opposed to punching 5 year olds in the face... That's not frowned upon is it?!
And it's not like he hasn't been the mean kid before... sometimes I think that may be just as bad. When YOUR kid is the bully. The one that tells another kid he doesn't like them.. or tells an adult that they have B.O... sigh. Is it that you worry about the kind of person they are becoming. Don't wish for them the pains and lonely lunch eating that accompany the kind of person that lacks a filter? Or is it a selfish thing. An embarrassment. It makes you feel like a bad parent because they haven't learned compassion/self control/manners/the golden rule which are YOUR job to teach them. It makes people think that their actions are a reflection on you and maybe you suck as a person. Maybe you talk smack about others at home. "Privately", you wouldn't DARE say it to them. But after all aren't our kids' personalities an amplification of ours?! It's like holding a mirror up to yourself... I didn't realize how often I put my hands on my hips until Isabella started doing it. Or that I may say bad things about the slow car in front of us... and about the person driving it until Douglas shouted, "hurry up you stupid car!". That Isabella could call her papa a pig because she heard grandma say, "papa is such a pig.." while cleaning up a mess he made [lovingly of course].
Douglas is [for the most part] a teacher's dream; he is usually pretty quiet, kind of shy, listens to instructions, a perfectionist. But will he be too quiet? Will kids look him over and he not have any friends?! Will he get behind in school because he's afraid to ask questions but not afraid to tell the teacher when they say something he thinks is wrong?! ugh.
But again. I think this will be harder on me. I'm being selfish. Though I know that as a parent my job is to ready him to enter the big scary world out there... I don't want to. Can't we just go live in a cave somewhere, just us. Where no one will ever break his heart and he can stay in his childish "why do you have lines on your belly" asking mentality..
But I love that boy. I love the things he loves. He asks how to get to heaven and if I can teach him sometime, when he's ready. He asks so many questions, about cows, grass, things I don't like. But I try to teach him, answer the questions I can about God's love and Michael Jackson. About matching clothes and how you shouldn't be afraid to try new things [even when I am]. I try to teach him about being nice to people, treating your friends and family with love and being considerate. About taking care of himself and how to shower. [we're working on him washing his own body. He has to know the name to EVERY part.. like the elbow pits + knee pits.. also the bankle. That's the back part of your ankle that holds a lot of dirt in the creases when you're running around barefoot. you're welcome for the information, it's free.]
He's a good kid. I think he's ready. He has to be. I have to be. It's happening.