Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Once in a while I am right.

Last week Maximo came rushing through the front door as he usually does after school. It's usually because he is about  to pee in his pants.

This day was different though.
He swung open the door with a look of sheer terror screaming that a kid from the bus was going to punch him in the face.

I'm not one to over react. But my inner mama bear began to rise up and I asked if it was a kid from the bus stop. Yep it was. Max lead the way as I went and stuck my head out the front door and looked down at the bus stop. There were some kids out there and I hollered over to them "what happened?" They all hollered back that *dude said he was going to punch Max. Then they started hollering down the street at *dude telling him to come over here and talk to me. Matt over heard the situation and stormed out of the driveway ahead of me. So I followed. In my bright green crocs and SAHM yoga pants. (And no coat since was a balmy 22 degrees out.)

When we got to the corner, fifth grade *dude was half way down the block walking a little girl home from the bus stop. I know this kid isn't a bad kid (he is employed by the little girl's mom to walk her home each day) and I also know that Maximo is notorious for annoying older kids on the bus.

I didn't know what I was going to say, and that's when I ask Jesus to give me the right words.

It is so important for us to be in relationship with our neighbors, even the punk ass neighbor kids who threaten my boy. So I knew that I was about to set the foundation for how these boys see me.

I was surprised when dude walked back over to where we were. By this time Matt had gone back home to Gabriel, Eli and Tya after seeing that everything was going to be alright.

So here I was with Maximo, *dude and his little kindergartner, and the other two 5th grade boys that were loving to be all up in their business.

I just asked what happened. *Dude said Max was bothering him, and he got fed up, and so he told Max he was "gonna punch him." I felt *dude's pain. Max does stuff that makes me want to punch him in the face irritated too. I explained that although Max looks older, that he is six. *Dude and his friends were surprised. They thought max was 9. I just explained that we are working on how Max needs to not bother people, and that he is still learning how to ride on the bus since this is his first year doing it. All I did was help to create some empathy. I told him that I understood why he said that to Max, because he was frustrated, but that it doesn't feel good to me to see my boy run home, afraid.

I explained that we are all neighbors and that we gotta look out for each other. I explained that in a few years Max would mature and grow up a little and that he'd be out with them in the summer playing basketball and riding skate boards (with helmets of course...). The boys nodded and agreed. I told them all that if there is ever any issues with Max, to come and talk to me and Matt, that we want to hear them out and help solve it instead of threats being thrown around.

I love living in the city. I love that Max is around kids of all ages and from all different backgrounds and I truly hope that Max get's to be these boys' equal someday. That they are shooting hoops in our backyard and hanging out with my boy.

I hope I get to be the cool mom that everyone trusts. I want to have a heart big enough for even the toughest boys (mine included).

Today I watched for Max from the front door as he skipped all the way home with a big smile on his face. He walked in the door and said "MOM! You were right. Those boys are my friends now!" He explained that they all had a snow ball fight and the big boys were nice to him. I told him "isn't that cool? That when you treat them like a friend instead of annoying them on the bus, that they actually get to enjoy your friendship?!"

Once in a while I am right I guess.

Maybe I wasn't so right when thinking it was okay to
wear my green crocs out in public.

My big (little) 6 1/2  year old trying to figure out his way in the world.