Three going on thirty (or how many gray hairs my kids give me daily)

Three might be the best age ever.  Gavin can be trusted to do so much on his own.  He climbs the steep subway steps all by himself.  He walks the sidewalks in front of me, but waits without fail at least 5 feet before the crosswalk.

Hode my hand, mommy.”

One of our favorite things to do is spend time at the local playground.  He’s been playing here since he first learned to walk and he knows every inch.  Now that Chloe is walking, she’s beginning to investigate the steps, the slides and the scene herself.   I spend a lot of time shadowing her.  That leaves Gavin with free reign as I keep one hand on her, one eye on him.

At the park this April, er, winter?

There were a lot of bigger kids at the park on Saturday which instantly makes me queasy.  Gavin loves to run behind the older kids as they run and roughhouse.  On this day, I noticed two 8-year-old boys that he was trailing.  They clearly didn’t enjoy the presence of this “baby” and had told him to get lost as they ran away repeatedly.

He chased after them as fast as his tiny legs could carry him until the boys stopped suddenly.  Together they backed him against the slide and one boy screamed some awful things just inches from his face.

I was behind Gavin at the time this happened, on the other side of the slide.  I couldn’t hear what the older boy said but I could see the menacing look on his face.  When they ran away I quickly circled over to see my boy.  His face was contorted in that way when you are trying with all your might not to cry but all you want to do is bust up and sob.

Yeah, just like that

I was so proud of him for holding it in until the boys left.  I was so relieved that he cried (and let me console him) when I arrived.  It was time to go anyhow and after this incident I hauled both kids over to the stroller.  I strapped Chloe in and handed her some snacks.  But Gavin suddenly stopped the waterworks.

“I need one more minute mommy,” he said.

Somehow I knew he was right.  Intent on leaving on a high note, he ran another loop around the shark infested waters playground.

Dun-nah, dun-nah, dun-nah

Collision!  The boys were back.  Gavin stood shocked when he spotted them but I caught his eye and smiled – letting him know I was there.  Suddenly his demeanor changed.  As the boys charged over, he met their pace.  When they were all face to face he yelled to them “hey, you’re not gonna follow me!” and resumed his stride.

But the boys were bored and content on breaking him down so they chased after him.  He stopped and faced them.  “Leave me alone!” he boldly announced.  And they did.

How my heart leaped!  He was cautious, but not afraid.  He was assertive but not aggressive.  I couldn’t have asked for a more positive result from what could have been a mother’s nightmare.

My heart pounded out of my chest for the entire walk home.  I was sad at what happened, proud of his reaction, assuaged I was there to witness it all, troubled by the fact that this is just the beginning.

Frankly, it was too damn much for a Saturday afternoon.

Who said this parenting thing was easy???

Love this boy
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About Carinn Jade

Mother, lawyer, yogi, writer, non-sleeper. Published @NYTMotherlode. Contributor @Mommyish @Moonfrye @HuffPostLive. I like beer (not wine) & tea (not coffee) & being a contrarian.
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6 Responses to Three going on thirty (or how many gray hairs my kids give me daily)

  1. Go Gavin!! I seriosly would have wanted to smack those boys!! He’s 3! Little turds.

    • YES! They were such little turds. Oh, I wanted to smack those boys for sure. I only held back knowing it would be better if he could handle it on his own. Once I was sure they just wanted to scare him and not hurt him I willed myself to stay back. They were the cowards, not my son.

  2. Leslie says:

    You tell ’em Gavin. Where were those evil boys’ mothers? (Or were they hiding under a table with embarrassment?). Good work letting him learn he’s brave and independent. 🙂

    • Just rip my heart out of my chest and stomp on it. That’s what it felt like! Is it too early in the summer to be done with the park????

      • Leslie says:

        I hear you. I caught myself wishing for winter this weekend when I’d taken the dog we sat for and the boys on four walks, to the lake, went to the park, etc. I was like, wait. Shouldn’t I be watching TV wearing fat pants? Those were the days.

  3. I think I just made the same face as Oprah as I read this! It’s so hard to watch our babies as they grow but so wonderful but scary but triumphant. Tell me you didn’t want to kick those mean boys just a little bit.

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