Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Vignette

So, we've had a lot of wonderful things happen, including a FABULOUS trip to Chicago, which is documented in many pictures. A lost a tooth, "school" is out for the summer (we're on a modified light summer schedule), etc, etc. But today I wanted to paint a vignette of something that happened this morning with G.

The girls went to the park with their old preschool teacher (she does a park day in the summer for all of her students and the ward kids--love it!!). I let G play at the park at bit too, and he found a slide he loved and was having a wonderful time.

Then, he headed towards the tunnel in the middle of the play structure, and I saw that some children had left a huge open bag of peanut M&Ms in the tunnel, and candies were strewn about. The entire mass blew towards G. (G is severely allergic to peanuts.) G saw only candy and he wanted it. I had to remove him from the play structure for his own safety. He screamed. He cried. He fought against the carseat, straightening like a board, twisting and pulling at the straps. He signed "play" and "more" as he screamed. (He also signed "milk, which is just an automatic comfort thing for him--if he's upset, he signs "milk.") He screamed the entire drive home. When I opened the door to unbuckle him, he kept screaming at me. He signed "play" over and over again, plus his comfort signs. I tried to carry him out of the car. He screamed at me, signed "NO" as he screamed, and dove away from me, tears streaking his cheeks. He grabbed the fence on the way in with both of his hands, pulling as hard as he could to go back out. Eventually I let him go out of the gate and watched as he stood a few from it, crying and gasping, slowly calming. Finally he stopped crying altogether and looked at me, sadness etched in every line of his face. His eyes weren't angry, or frustrated--they held betrayal. We stared at each other for a few moments, his eyes never losing their cast of hurt betrayal. Then he took a breath and ran away.

He ran around the car and out of the driveway. He ran down the entire street to the end, where the grass ends atop a short cement wall overlooking the sidewalk area and the street. He stood there, watching the cars drive past and the tree branches sway, crying softly for several minutes. I followed him but I didn't try to speak to him. I just watched as he cried to himself, staring out at the street through his tears. I didn't want to interrupt his grieving. That's the only word to describe it. Eventually I pointed out the birds in the tree, and he looked for a few second before stepping away from me and resuming his quiet cries, staring out at the passing cars. After a minute I asked if he wanted a hug, and by then he was calm enough to accept it and agree to come home with me.

I've never had a kid run away out of sadness and grief. He's 20 months old, for goodness' sake!! What is he going to be like when he's older?