Henry & Mama Terrorize the Rabbit

Tonight, as Henry and I peered out his bedroom window to check on the blueberry bush (our nightly ritual), we spotted a rabbit in my garden - not near the recently planted crops, but at the other end.  I flipped - weirdly - seeing as how I know her family is living under our shed.  But, I like to pretend that she doesn't pay attention to my garden, and I believe that she gives it a wide berth, respecting her place and my boundary.  Clearly, that is not the case.  I asked Henry, without thinking it through, whether or not he wished to go outside with me.  He, having no idea what was to come next, quickly agreed.  We shot through the house as if there were rockets attached to our backs, went out back, at which point I scooped him up in my arms and ran away from the house as if it were on fire - barefoot - to the garden.  There the rabbit was, terrified - and I began to hiss.  The rabbit was inspired, and darted for the fence - and barely got through - at which point I began to rethink my situation, hoping - no, praying - that she would get through.  She did - thank God -  and Henry and I returned to the house.  We got in, I closed the door, and turned to see a startled, shaken looking boy. 

"What's wrong?  Henry, are you ok?" 
He informed me that he had been afraid that we were going to get close to her and she was going to bite us.
(We hadn't gotten close at all to her, by the way.)  I sat down on the floor, now rethinking everything that had just transpired as my little boy crumpled into my lap.  I promised him that the rabbit wouldn't bite us, that he was right that we shouldn't get close to her, and then confessed, that in fact, I like rabbits, but didn't want her to eat my lettuce, and that maybe - maybe? - I'd overreacted.  A little.  He suggested that we "never do that again".  And so we won't.

Sometimes we bribe Henry.  Oh come on, like you wouldn't.
So, tonight he calls over to me, "What will I get if I eat my chicken?"
"Bigger."  I call back.
I guess it didn't work 'cause he didn't eat it.

Walter dancing to his singing birthday balloons!!

We were listening to Prairie Home Companion when they did a bit on the old song, Funky Town.  Henry said, "Monkey Town?  What's monkey town?"

The Clarity of Children

Minnesota is an odd place for me, I think, although to be fair, I never feel perfectly at ease anywhere - which has more to do with me clearly, than geography.  Minnesota is a place where people seem sort of avoidant, or to themselves, and when they speak, it feels like there are a lot of backhanded compliments - or statements that leave you feeling uncertain about the feelings you're left with.  Or, maybe, again, it's just me.

I know 2 Minnesotans who are very clear about what's going on for them at any given time: Henry and Walter.  We were at church last Sunday eating our after-church snack, and Walter was being very persnickety about something, not sure what, and he was demanding that I not sit by him and saying "Go 'way!"  Walter is a very loud child, not to be outdone and needing to be heard over the din that is so often in our home.  Marty, our minister, stopped by the table to chat with me, and sat down on the other side of Walt, who then turned his attentions on him yelling, "Go 'way!"

I was embarrassed. On the other hand, however, I respect my child's right to have and verbalize feelings - even if they aren't always perfectly appropriate for the setting.  Marty suggested we stand up to talk a foot away from the table, but I replied that I thought Walt could adjust.  In the end, we got up and stood a foot away from the table.

I looked at Marty and said, "Sorry."  I meant it, for sure, but also felt conflicted that I was apologizing for another person's behavior, that of a 2 year old - which, to be fair, gets a little more leeway considering his age and developmental stage - and, I suppose, because I'm glad he is learning how to verbalize his feelings. While I am not thrilled at his tone or demanding behavior, and we will continue to work on learning respect for others and personal responsibility (a lifelong process, I think) - I am tickled that my kids don't hem and haw and beat around the bush. Not only that, but they're growlers!  I'm hoping they'll outgrow it, Henry already has for the most part - but what a wonderfully clear way to indicate discomfort or distress.  I get it.  Others get it.  There is no room for misinterpretation. 

I'll continue to tell them to use their words and assist them in finding the right ones, but by God, I love that they growl.  And, I think it's good for Minnesotans overall.  I've wanted to growl at many of them.

(I say all of this about Minnesotans very tongue in cheek.  In fact, I know many who are quite nice, and occasionally, quite clear.)