My Quirky Boy

From the start the day was a mess. There was a performance, a picnic, and other unscheduled activities.  All together was over the top for Fin.  He did his best, held it together as much as he could.  At the picnic he would not leave my side.  I wanted to talk to the other parents, try to work my way into the circle.  When I am Fin’s rock, and point of reference for order in the universe, I have to be 100% present.  That makes it impossible to talk to anyone else.  As soon as it was over, all he wanted to do was go home.  We did, I didn’t push finishing the day.  At home he went to the couch and did  a word search.  He can’t read, and it was all BIG, giant names of dinosaurs that I would not even attempt to pronounce.  But he did it, found all of them, regardless if they were forward, backwards, or diagonal.

Once calm was restored we went to the park.  Day after day there is an after school program that blankets the park with kids.  A group of them go out to the field and play a version of baseball.  One hits, the others huddle in a crowd trying to catch the ball.  Most of them lack a baseball glove and use their hats to try and catch the ball.  Once caught, the catcher gets their turn at bat. Fin has watched them, desperate to play, but can’t get over himself to do it.  He wants me to ask the kids if he can play, wants me to go with him, and I won’t.  He stands just along the fence and runs for any ball that drops over, and throws it back.

He has thought long, and hard about going over to the group and playing.  He has escalated to bringing his glove to the park everyday.  Today he went over, and walked right into the group, and stood among the boys looking skyward.  Waiting for that green orb to drop out of the heavens.  Soon it became too crowded, and loud, and Fin silently slipped back over the fence. He sat on the swings, looking around, hoping that ball would drop over.

I stood and pushed Little G on the swings, and watched him observing the kids at play.  After close to half an hour he looked up at me, got off the swing.  He stood straight and tall, and told me he was going to ask a boy if he had a ball, and wanted to play catch.  With out a glance back, or a hesitation in his stride, he walked right over and asked a complete, and total stranger to play.

I cried. Right there at the park. If you were to ask anyone who knows me, I don’t cry, ever.

For as hard as the day began, it ended in the most remarkable way.  Two months ago he would have never done that.  I told him, how proud I was, how hard I knew it was, and how totally amazing, and wonderful he is.

I will never stop being awed by what a amazing person he is, and his ability to constantly surprise us on a regular basis.