It's my motherly duty... i have to take my son to his friend's birthday party. No, you don't understand. I HAVE to. It's my motherly duty.
They have toy guns at this party. The plastic ones that have "bullets" that stick to the mirror or any flat surface. I hate guns. I'm not an advocate by any means. But it seems to be a guy thing. It's a guy, kid thing. I don't wanna be a pooper. I just voice out my opinion- "i don't like guns".
Dylan is playing with his classmates. I'm trying to figure out how this is appealing to children. I don't think they realize, that in reality, this shit- KILLS people. I can't stress it enough- i HATE guns.
So they play. They're kids. Shoot each other. Die. Ouch. Whatever. They get the gist. Kind of, anyway.
Dylan ducks behind me. Uses me as kind of a shield. His classmates shoot. 2 boys. It's a direct hit. A direct hit on mommy's arm. Both "bullets" hit me straight on my right arm.
I react. "Ouch. That's not nice..."
Little did i know, the realm i had entered upon.
This was, by far, the angriest, most upset, sad, distraught, pissed off, crazy i have ever seen my 6 year old son in his whole entire existence. I shit you not. This kid was pissed the eff off.
I think something took over this kid for that certain moment in time.
"Don't hurt my mommy!!!!!!!!!!!!"
(it was so severe that writing about it does not do it justice)
I watched as my 6 year old boy proceeded to run after 2 other kids with a temper i have never seen before. With determination to destroy. I'm all about sorting out your problems and learning from your experience... but i had to step in. It looked like violence in its highest degree was about to erupt. I was not about to witness my son in a driveway scuffle.
I pulled him away and sat him down.
No, wait. That's a lie. This kid would not sit down.
I tried the, "Breath. Inhale. Exhale. Shake it off.", to no avail.
I explained, "I'm not hurt. Look... I'm okay. I told them not to do it anymore...". And yes, the kids DID take the bullets out and played with the guns without any ammo.
That did not make the issue any easier.
Dylan continued to scream, and turn red, and eventually cry, "I hate everyone!!! I wanna break all their guns. They shouldn't hurt my mom!!! Nobody hurts my mom!!! I'm going to break their guns!!! I hate guns!!! I don't like guns!!! Don't hurt my mommy!!!!"
With all the emotion a 6 year old and beyond could muster...
I almost cried.
No, seriously. If you felt his anguish... the despair... the hate boiling inside him- You would fight back the tears too.
Yes, it was THAT serious.
This is my flesh and blood. He was fighting to defend his mother. Defending MY honor. Protecting me. Sheltering me from hurt, if you will. MY 6 year old son. Love in the highest degree... in a very eerie and violent manner.
He hated those kids. It deeply wounded him. The emotion was severely potent. I cannot even stress it enough or find the words to justify the feeling running through this kid's veins. The MOST upset i have ever seen this boy in his entire 6 and a half years of existence.
It was an epiphany.
Dylan and I. Me and Dylan. This kid and me. My son and myself. It is me and him. Him and me. I love this kid til the blood in my veins run dry... and beyond.
LOVE, in the greatest sense of the word. That is US.
It may be a mother and son thing. I live and breath for this kindred soul. I believe he was made especially for me. I may be a bunch of really messed up things... and "God" knows, i've had my share of fucked-upedness in my life... but this kid is what my heart and soul is all about. My greatest masterpiece. My work of art, if you will. I couldn't be more proud. He is the best thing i have ever put my mind into... and boy, is he worth it.
I have given up a huge chunk of my life for him. Dreams and youth, the ideal life and what have you. I ponder about it and go through the motions of my "shoulda, coulda woulda"s... and i still would not trade it for everything the world had to offer me. I watch him as he develops his speech, go through school, and experience "problems", handle situations.... and while majority of the chicks my age are worrying about boys, clothes, the next big party, my bigass promotion, and what i should drink tonight... i'm watching a part of me turn into someone i will stare at one day and say, "Wow. I did pretty effin great."
I never thought i would ever be a "mom" kinda girl. Heck, i was never even really fond of kids. But this thing... this LOVe... unexplainable and will forever be a mystery- the love a parent will hold for their child.
When your parents say, "You'll know/understand when you have kids of your own..."... DAMn!!! They were NOT kidding.
THAT- is some major, serious, high, all kinds of drugs, shit. And, yeah... i've been there. There's nothing quite like this one.
I watched my son defend my honor today. I sat with him and talked him through the motions of calming the eff down. I finally distracted him by telling him he was going on a play date with his girlfriend (he LOVEs this girl, just for the record. But that's a whole other story).
I observed in awe as other parents watched the scene play out...
There isn't a tandem quite like ours.
I will fight, and die, and vie for this youngling.
Apparently, he would do the same for me.
I watched my son defend my honor today.
It put my life into perspective... and i'm more in love than i have ever been in my entire 27 years of existence.