More Than I Signed Up For

It's a very ancient saying,
But a true and honest thought,
That if you become a teacher,
By your pupils you'll be taught.*

I didn't actually sign up for this course at all- Damien was more of a pop quiz. He wasn't just a "You weren't trying, but surprise!" kind of surprise- he was a "I know you were trying NOT to have me, but SURPRISE! I'm here anyway, BWAHAHAHAHA" kind of surprise. And since I didn't deliberately enroll in this crash course in Human Behavioral Education, it took me a while to realize that I am NOT the professor on this one. Occasionally I get to guest-star in the teacher role, but for every little lesson I manage to sneak into his great big personality, Damien schools me in at least one HUGE, perspective-altering subject. Schools me. Seriously.

Damien has a friend. This friend has a punching bag. Its name is Damien. I haven't figured out WHY Damien is so often the target of this child's aggression, but he is. And yet, Damien loves his friend without fail. If I had a friend who hit me when we hung out together... well... we wouldn't. But Damien desperately wants to play with this friend. He does so now only under close supervision. I had to sit down with him and talk about this relationship to make sure it wasn't affecting him negatively. What I heard from my little child was an eye-opening reminder to me about how forgiveness works. I asked him, "Damien, how does it make you feel when your friend hits you?" I expected the natural responses: "Sad, mad, hurt, confused..." And what I got in return was: "I don't want him to be mad anymore. When he hits me, I think I should give him a hug. Can we make cupcakes to help him feel happy?"

Puke. Talk about overkill. Talk about guilt trip. Talk about turn the other cheek. It's one of those sickeningly sweet moments that would fit comfortably inside the front cover of The Friend. It also completely overrides the way I've been trying to teach him NOT to hit. I've reiterated many times that when he hits other kids, they don't want to play with him anymore. But that's not what he feels when other kids hit him. Good job, Damien, I have no idea how to reach you on this one now. Where did this unfailingly loving, forgiving nature come from? I know that I have talked many times on internet forums (some of my friends may have even received this particular piece of go-to advice from me) about making delicious baked goods for difficult neighbours, but I didn't think I'd ever said it aloud for Damien to overhear (he learns so much more from what he overhears than from what I say directly to him). So maybe it's a natural instinct to make cupcakes for people who hit us, or maybe he just really likes cupcakes, thinks everyone should like cupcakes, and noticed his friend seems unhappy and made the logical jump to... unhappy friend - cupcake = he wants to hit me... unhappy friend + cupcake = he wants to hug me. Whatever it is, I'm sitting here trying to teach my kid not to hit and he responds by teaching me to bless those who curse me and bake for those who despitefully use me. Great. See? I'm not the professor here.

When we moved to Monterey this time around, I noticed that we have too many toys. WAY too many toys. It's honestly not a huge volume of things, but considering my kids would be happy for life with a cardboard box and a bouncyball, it was too many. I mentioned a few times (to Kyle, not remembering that Damien memorizes every word I ever say to anyone) that we should go through their things when they weren't watching and take some things to Goodwill. That was in September. November rolled around, and with it came Damien's birthday. He received a gift card from one set of grandparents to a store that isn't open on Mondays (which is the day on which his birthday fell) so I told him on Tuesday we would go toy shopping. He replied "Oh, then today we should pick some of my toys to give to kids who don't have some."

I, of course replied thus:

.

...


...

That's not me. Do you really think I would post a picture of MYSELF crying, publicly? No. Look up "ugly cry" in the imaginary dictionary- THAT'S me.

Compose myself. "Ok, Damien, I think that's a really great idea!" And so, a new tradition was born. Every year on his birthday, Damien will pick some toys to give to kids who don't have some. I bet you anything it will get more difficult as he gets older, but this birthday, he taught me how to be selfless. And on Tuesday, when he got to shop with his gift card, he refused to choose a second toy until he had found the perfect toy for Lyric. Oh my gosh, puke. Please child, stop shaming me, because I was really just hoping you would choose a cake mix or a big bag of chocolate for your second gift so that I could pilfer the results.

I know, this sounds like a gigantic brag, and I promise you that Damien is NOT a perfect child. There are many things I could list that would make you feel REALLY GOOD about your children by comparison, but this is a positive blog, so I won't- I'll simply encourage you to look for the good in them... it tends to be easy to find, if you spend a few minutes prepping yourself to ignore the louder bad. One thing I CAN tell you is that he is much closer to perfect than I have ever been. And of course, that's because he doesn't have to try very hard right now to "become as a little child."

I have to try really hard. REALLY hard. So I'm thankful for the great big giant surprise professor that came to give me an extended pop quiz five years ago. I know it's my job to teach him a lot of things about life, like how it's important to not pick his nose and put the results on his sister, and how it's important that he remember he is not a lion during the Sacrament, but obviously he came here to teach me a lot of much more important things, and when I humble myself enough to learn from him, I always come out the better for it.

*Rodgers and Hammerstein- "Getting to Know You"