Paradox?

My son is smarter than his years. He is wiser. He is cleverer. He is more compassionate. Understanding. Kind. Considerate.

When I'm sad he tells me to breathe, "Calm down, Mama. It's ok."

When I'm grouchy he says "stop shouting to me, Mama."

When I tell him to make sure his dangle is in the toilet he shouts back "It is, Mama. I KNOW!"

When other kids fall down, hurt themselves, get upset, he goes to their rescue. He'll put his arm around their shoulders.

He is kind.

At the park the other day he poked a little boy, much littler than him, with a stick. I didn't see it, I just came to the littler boy's rescue. Heard the tears and ran, not sure whose baby it was, until I turned around. No one saw the stick poking, just the tears of the little one. The stick poking happened inside the light house of the park near our beach, behind closed doors, so to speak.

The Bean was in the light house with his friend. After I rescued the little one, returned him to his mother, I went into the light house to ask The Bean and his friend what had happened. It looked as though the little boy had fallen down the steps inside. Made sense.

The Bean's friend looked down. Guilty.

I asked her what had happened again, she said she'd poked the boy with a stick. "It's our lighthouse."

Roar!

At The Bean - I don't tend to yell at other people's children, unless in a classroom type situation. Then it's a free for all! I love them, but I yell!

I talked again to The Bean later, he said he'd "Poked the little boy in the t-shirt."

We talked about it. Rationalised it. I told him how uncool that was. How we don't do things like that.

How I couldn't believe he'd done that.

How I never wanted him to do anything like that again.

Then I talked to a very wise person, a father of a nine year old. He said sometimes you've got to let them be kids. Do kid things. Make those kinds of mistakes. Luckily no one was really hurt.

Just me, really. Because I had forgotten that The Bean was three. I had assumed he would always do the right thing.

I know he chucks tantrums, chucks cars across my lounge room. I know he shouts and cries and is naughty sometimes.

But I always thought he'd do the right thing.

And it made me sad.

Things The Bean has said:
I recently met a man who makes me smile.A man who is funny and clever and kind and gorgeous. The Bean met this man the other day. We shall call this man 'D'.

The next morning, The Bean and I had this conversation.

The Bean: 'Mama, are we going to see D again?'
Me: 'Yeah, babe. Probably on the weekend. Is that good?'
TB: 'Yes.'
Me: 'Did you like D?'
TB: 'Yep... He's pretty rock 'n' roll, isn't he?'