This weekend was packed.
Finn and Papa Terry had a tickle fight for at least five minutes. That boy’s smile brings me so much joy. When he’s happy, I’m happy.
Dinner with great buds at Norman’s new S&B Burger Joint.
Family walk to Starbucks.
And two birthday parties.
At the first, Rumble arrived in the driveway atop an OKC Thunder van. Hudson let us all get in line to have a poster signed by Rumble. Finn touched his furry horn while he was signing, but as soon as Rumble looked up, Finn buried his head in Joey’s armpit.
Then we were off to James’ shark party, complete with a professional face painter. He was amazing; and his British accent–whether it was authentic or not–made him seem even more fantastic.
I train James’ parents (shameless plug: check out http://www.fitwithnextlevel.com/Meet-Our-Athletes.html to see their accomplishments), and it was fun to interact with them outside of the studio.
New experience at this party, however…
I was contemplating putting Finn on the ground to crawl with the other babies. I only knew about three people at the party and didn’t want to explain to the other onlookers why Finn crawls so funny or why he’s not walking like the other toddlers in the room. Silly, I know; but that desire to “fit in” is a tough one to shake. I had birthday party anxiety even as a kid…who will I know? Will they like me? Did I wear the right thing? Will they like my gift?
Finn wanted to get down so badly that he almost leapt out of my arms, so I gave in. He was on the floor…and not a moment later, almost as if in s l o w m o t i o n, I watched a blond curly-headed boy tackle him. Yes. He jumped right on top of Finn and started doing God knows what…poking him in the eyeballs, giving him a wedgie, fingers up his nose…not really, he just jumped on him and wiggled around a little. I guess the little guy wanted to wrestle? Surely he meant no harm, but Finn just laid his head down on the carpet and cried. My stomach lurched and I asked my friend beside me (very calmly, might I add), “Whose child is on top of Finn?” She swiftly pried someone’s toddler off my son. Thank you, Kristen. If I’d have done it, I’m afraid I would have tossed the kid through the window. I wiped the lil’ smokie sauce off Finn’s cheek, a souvenir from the curly-headed boy; thankful it wasn’t blood.
So. There it is. First experience watching my son get “hurt” by another kid. Not fun and a very mild version of what lies ahead, I know. I’m adding to my prayers the strength to respond with grace when Finn is bullied and for him to develop an unshakeable resiliency and sense of self…And maybe a mean right hook. 🙂