Friday, November 25, 2005

My Hero

I was going to write about how incredible it feels to have a peaceful, quiet house for three days, a house in which nothing moves unless I move it, a house where I can (and do) sit for hours just listening to the sound of no sound and feeling myself relax until I'm calm as a pond. I was going to go on and on about how much I missed the boys for the first fifteen minutes, and how after that I sat on the sofa in the sunshine for an hour, and how after THAT I kind of came to and realized that I felt like myself for the first time in over a year. (Apparently I am still in here somewhere--I'm just in hiding, waiting for the storm of young children to pass.) I was going to write about how doing one thing at a time and taking as much time as I want over it feels delicious, and about how sleeping for many uninterrupted hours leaves my brain feeling like it's floating on a cloud, soft and cushy and with a great view. You know the way you feel when you stand up after a good massage and discover that there's more SPACE in your body? Well, after three days alone, there's more space in my mind. And that's even with ten hours in the ER every day.

So yeah, I was going to write about all that, and about how I'm going to have to play some mind games to get ready for the moment tomorrow when the boys come in the door, and about how my goodness, husbands take up a lot of mental as well as physical space. But instead, I want to write about The Rabbit and his finest hour.

On the phone today, The Tall Doctor told me that yesterday the whole Tall Dutch Tribe had gone to church, and afterwards, in the chaos of coffee hour, he'd noticed a troop of small boys playing in the corner. Rabbit wandered over, and presently The Tall Doctor saw that a bigger kid, maybe five or six, was making a game out of roughousing the smaller kids so they fell over. The little kids didn't like it, and one little boy with Down's Syndrome was clearly very unhappy. Before TTD could get over there to do something, he saw the big kid approach the kid with Down's again. Only this time, The Rabbit interposed himself, drew himself up to his full height (which left him staring at the big kid's bellybutton) and commanded, "YOU BE GENTLE!" The kid backed off, bemused, but tried it again a few minutes later, whereupon The Rabbit did it again. And again. Every time the big kid tried to bully someone, Rabbit put himself between the kid, who was twice his size, and the victim and ordered the bully to "BE GENTLE!". And finally the bully tired of it and went away.

I cannot think of anything my son could have done which would make me prouder.

4 Comments:

Blogger elswhere said...

What a fine person that Rabbit is. I was going to write "will be," or "is becoming," but no-- he IS.

8:35 AM  
Blogger csla said...

I am constantly impressed and amazed by the maturity of your little man. Kudos on the wonderful job you and TTD are doing with your kids.

And by the way, I love reading your blog. Makes me feel like we're in grad school again, and I'm sitting in your living room on a Thursday afternoon, trading stories and passing the Rabbit (who was a wee bit smaller and less verbal) around the room.

10:51 AM  
Blogger SER said...

I am so proud of Mr. Bunny! I hate bullies!

2:03 PM  
Anonymous Nothing But Bonfires said...

You raised him well! Making his mommy proud -- that's worth the sleepless nights, right?

(I don't have kids, so uh, I'm HOPING it is....)

2:20 PM  

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