Thursday, October 2, 2008

Not Just a Rock


This is going to sound strange, but every once and awhile my babies go from being my babies to being actual little people. You see, my whole life is dedicated to my children. We are always together. Typically, if they need something done, I do it. They are fed by me, changed by me, bathed by me, dressed by me, groomed by me, carried by me, praised by me, punished by me and soothed by me. It is often easy to forget that although they need me in so many ways, they aren't actually an extension of me. They think on their own, act on their on, and feel on their own. Already, they are who they are.
It's strange how different my two children are. Their days are spent in almost identical situations, yet at the end of 24 hours their experiences have been very different. Rex is my tender heart and he lives life at his own pace. If he is given a cookie, without hesitation he breaks it in half and takes the bigger piece to his sister. He cannot sneeze that he doesn't bless himself, and those around him. If he gets into trouble his eyes well up with tears, and he needs me to hold him for a good five minutes after. When he needs some downtime, he takes one of his favorite books into our shower and sits and reads to himself. He asks to be hugged and kissed at least once every hour. He says "thank you" and "your welcome" every time you do or give him something. His favorite blanket tends to accompany him around the house, and he is very, painfully shy around new people. Olive on the other hand, is a pistol. This girl was born knowing what she wants, and doing whatever it takes to get it. Getting into trouble is part of the fun for Olive. Yesterday, she spent the five minutes I had my back turned pulling as much toilet paper off the roll as she could. She knew I would be mad, but she didn't care. As I began to scold her, she looked at me and reached for another handful. By now, Rex would be crying, and trying to figure out how to put the T.P. back on the roll, but not this kid. I hadn't reached her yet, so she figured she still had time to get more off the roll. Olive loves strangers, spending her time from the front seat of the grocery cart parade waving like a little princess to everyone we pass, and if you are lucky you can steal a kiss from her as she races by you.

Currently, rocks are one of Rex's greatest fascinations. He is going to save me a bundle this Christmas, because a box of rocks can't be that expensive. Everywhere we go, the kid is on the look out for a good rock. At the end of everyday, I have to empty the rocks he has collected from out of his pockets. When Rex finds a particular great rock he always brings it to me for safe keeping. Seeing nothing special about these rocks I usually toss them when he is not looking. Yesterday, about a half hour after I had ditched one of his special rocks, he came and asked me for it back. What.... this had never happened before. I told him I had lost it and he was crushed. He had given me one of his most treasured possessions, and I had the nerve to "lose" it. He spent the next half hour frantically scouring the backyard for the rock I had carelessly lost. By this time, it was time to go in and get dinner ready, and the search had to end. Rex was brokenhearted, and strangely, so was I. My kid had trusted me with something important, and I had just tossed it aside. This morning when Rex got up, he came out of his room with a different rock, after a small lecture about keeping it safe, he presented to me with a bit of hesitation. That is the great things about rocks, there are always plenty more. Trust isn't so easy to come by. Fortunately this little person, my kid, has decided I am worth another try. Currently, the rock is sitting on my jewelery box where it will stay safe and sound. To some, it is just a rock. To my son, it is a treasured possession and a symbol that he trusts me again. To me, this morning anyway, it means the world. I am worthy of another try. Sometimes, we carelessly toss aside some of the most important things without a second thought, but if we are lucky life will present us with the chance to redeem ourselves. I am very lucky, life and my son has given me another rock.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Camille your kids are so funny. We miss them sooooo much. We need an excuse for you to come down. Love
~Gillian

Carmen said...

Camille, you are a mother I aspire to be. Hopefully before mine all grow up! I love the lessons you have shared here. There have been a few treasured pieces of art I carelessly tossed to the recycle bag only to be asked about it later. Now I keep (almost) every scrap! You are a wonderful woman, I am glad your path has been brought alongside mine!
Love,
Carmen