Kids Are Heroes Too
Saturday my oldest son and my middle son [ages 15 and 11] got into a fight.
It started as playing and was motivated by who would get to sit in the front seat of the car on the ride home from my oldest son's friend's house.
The play fight quickly deteriorated and became a real fight because my 15 year old is a whole heck of a lot stronger than my 11 year old.
It got heated, especially when the oldest tried to reason with me about why the younger one shouldn't get to sit in the front seat [age, weight, and an attempted hit below the belt].
The youngest one stood there, hurt from the forceful grip on his arms.
Not good.
They both ended up sitting in the back seat and the ride home was spent in silent anger.
Until the younger one sneezed and the older one automatically said, "Bless you".
Even in his anger and the inequity of the situation, he still loves his brother.
That one 'bless you' helped dissipate my anger at them both and when we got home I called my oldest into the laundry room where I was folding clothes.
Just like the fight between my boys had gone from one thing to another, so the conversation between us began as one thing and turned into something completely different.
It started with me expressing my disappointment that my son didn't rise to the occasion and just let the little one sit in the front when we had been out in the first place just to pick him [the older boy] up.
From there it segued into my son telling me that what I see as controlling is him doing things because he cares.
My boy, taller than me and wider and likely stronger, began to get emotional.
He thought that I didn't see how much he cares about his siblings.
In his mind, he shows it.
But what we see is him trying to impart what he's learned in the matter-of-fact manner with which he lives his life.
Things are organized and orderly and he figures everyone should make decisions and act in the same way.
From this place, the conversation turned to us talking about the inner strength of my 11 year old.
I told my son that it was likely true that I do, at times, do or allow things that to the rest of my kids seem unfair or without basis.
My point to my oldest, which for the first time I think he really understood, was that sometimes I make small concessions for my younger son in order to give him little pieces of pleasure or triumph or happiness.
True, they're not meaningful pieces, but to an 11 year old, sitting in the front seat when your big brother is sitting in the back can be a moment of pride or triumph that someone else might not understand.
And when you have a child that has an illness, or chronic condition, you look for those small things to compensate for the bigger losses or challenges.
Right or wrong, it's what I do, and my older son understands that now.
He also, for the first time, put himself in his brother's shoes and really thought about how difficult things would be if he had the same challenges.
It put things in perspective, at least at that moment.
So what does this have to do with heroes? Just that the whole interchange, from the fight about the front seat to the final conversation between my oldest son and me, showed me heroic qualities in both of my boys.
It showed me how young kids are when they start to mask their emotions and how, just like adults, they often think they are showing the world something that they really aren't.
But it's the motives underneath, combined with how they exhibit them, that start to define their character.
As a parent, I believe I helped guide my son through an emotional obstacle on Saturday by talking about it.
One conversation led to something entirely different, and taking that opportunity to talk with him about it created a way for him to look at his own motives and, as a result, for him to begin to define the heroic qualities within himself.
It started as playing and was motivated by who would get to sit in the front seat of the car on the ride home from my oldest son's friend's house.
The play fight quickly deteriorated and became a real fight because my 15 year old is a whole heck of a lot stronger than my 11 year old.
It got heated, especially when the oldest tried to reason with me about why the younger one shouldn't get to sit in the front seat [age, weight, and an attempted hit below the belt].
The youngest one stood there, hurt from the forceful grip on his arms.
Not good.
They both ended up sitting in the back seat and the ride home was spent in silent anger.
Until the younger one sneezed and the older one automatically said, "Bless you".
Even in his anger and the inequity of the situation, he still loves his brother.
That one 'bless you' helped dissipate my anger at them both and when we got home I called my oldest into the laundry room where I was folding clothes.
Just like the fight between my boys had gone from one thing to another, so the conversation between us began as one thing and turned into something completely different.
It started with me expressing my disappointment that my son didn't rise to the occasion and just let the little one sit in the front when we had been out in the first place just to pick him [the older boy] up.
From there it segued into my son telling me that what I see as controlling is him doing things because he cares.
My boy, taller than me and wider and likely stronger, began to get emotional.
He thought that I didn't see how much he cares about his siblings.
In his mind, he shows it.
But what we see is him trying to impart what he's learned in the matter-of-fact manner with which he lives his life.
Things are organized and orderly and he figures everyone should make decisions and act in the same way.
From this place, the conversation turned to us talking about the inner strength of my 11 year old.
I told my son that it was likely true that I do, at times, do or allow things that to the rest of my kids seem unfair or without basis.
My point to my oldest, which for the first time I think he really understood, was that sometimes I make small concessions for my younger son in order to give him little pieces of pleasure or triumph or happiness.
True, they're not meaningful pieces, but to an 11 year old, sitting in the front seat when your big brother is sitting in the back can be a moment of pride or triumph that someone else might not understand.
And when you have a child that has an illness, or chronic condition, you look for those small things to compensate for the bigger losses or challenges.
Right or wrong, it's what I do, and my older son understands that now.
He also, for the first time, put himself in his brother's shoes and really thought about how difficult things would be if he had the same challenges.
It put things in perspective, at least at that moment.
So what does this have to do with heroes? Just that the whole interchange, from the fight about the front seat to the final conversation between my oldest son and me, showed me heroic qualities in both of my boys.
It showed me how young kids are when they start to mask their emotions and how, just like adults, they often think they are showing the world something that they really aren't.
But it's the motives underneath, combined with how they exhibit them, that start to define their character.
As a parent, I believe I helped guide my son through an emotional obstacle on Saturday by talking about it.
One conversation led to something entirely different, and taking that opportunity to talk with him about it created a way for him to look at his own motives and, as a result, for him to begin to define the heroic qualities within himself.
