Lessons in Daring
It’s Monday, so it is nephew night once again. My evening starts when he comes in the door and bellows for me. When I come to him, he will let me grab him up and hug and kiss him till he giggles.
He is only 31 months old, and I admire him already. The way I see it, though I have no clear recollections, I think this age is the hardest in life.
Imagine you’re going about your business, engaged in something that is the upmost important to you. Then someone comes along, and just by virtue of their size, completely thwarts your will. Worst yet, you know what you want to express, but don’t have the words to make yourself clear. Talk about frustrating!
While those of us entrusted with their care know that we make the choices we do to keep them safe, all they know is that we are the party poopers who won’t let them explore the world of wonder under the kitchen sink. The world is an exciting but scary place at 2. Almost everything is bigger than you are, and the smallest of things can be life threatening.
The upside of two is that you can be super daring, because you have no concept of risk. While the scrapes and falls scare the pants off those around you, for the most part, any wrong can be righted with a nap.
The amount of trust a two year old can show you is humbling. My nephew thinks I am super woman – if its broke I can fix it, if it hurts I can heal it, if it is scary, I can protect him. Yesterday, he was having a bad day and his mother took him aside to discipline him. I could hear him yelling for me as she worked on setting him strait. While I would never overstep his mother’s rule, it still felt good knowing he called for me when distressed. My sister tells me he does it at home as well.
As I think about all of this, two things come to mind:
- Now that I am charting the course into the next phase of my life, I need to get in touch with my inner two year old.
- I hope there is a special place in hell reserved for those who violate the trust of a child.
Diary of a Lost Black Woman 