Runaway Bunny

When Mitchell was little, his favorite book was Run Away Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown. I had that book memorized, which doesn't say much because it is pretty short, whether we were snuggled in bed, or as we would wheel around in the stroller, he would turn the pages and I would recite the story of a little bunny who wanted to run away from his mama. I remember not really liking the idea as a young mother. I remember questioning "why would that little bunny want to run away from his mom?" and I didn't want Mitchell to get any ideas. . . But now as a mother of a nineteen year old, now as a mother who has had some life experiences, I understand more completely.

This book is so relevant to my feelings for my little boy who is now a man. My sweet kind hearted boy, you have been a blessing in my life and I cherish every moment with you. I am grateful for the joys and the pains because they both have enriched my life greatly. No matter what you need Mitch, I will be there. I will be who you need me to be, I will go where you need me to go, I will do that which you need me to do, and I will not waver, I will not shrink or turn away, even when you do not want my help, I will be there, always and forever, I will be there for you, for you will always be my boy.

I love you.


"Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away.

So he said to his mother, “I am running away.”

“If you run away,” said his mother,

“I will run after you.

For you are my little bunny.”

“If you run after me,” said the little bunny,

“I will become a fish in a trout stream and I will swim away from you.”

“If you become a fish in a trout stream,” said his mother,

“I will become a fisherman and I will fish for you.”

“If you become a fisherman,” said the little bunny,

“I will become a rock on the mountain, high above you.”

“If you become a rock on the mountain high above me,”

said his mother, “I will become a mountain climber,

and I will climb to where you are.”

“If you become a mountain climber,”said the little bunny,

“I will be a crocus in a hidden garden.”

“If you become a crocus in a hidden garden,”said his mother,

“I will be a gardener. And I will find you.”

“If you are a gardener and find me,” said the little bunny,

“I will be a bird and fly away from you.”

“If you become a bird and fly away from me,” said his mother,

“I will be a tree that you come home to.”

“If you become a tree,” said the little bunny,

“I will become a little sailboat, and I will sail away from you.”

“If you become a sailboat and sail away from me,”said his mother,

“I will become the wind and blow you where I want you to go.”

“If you become the wind and blow me,” said the little bunny,

“I will join a circus and fly away on a flying trapeze.”

“If you go flying on a flying trapeze,” said his mother,

“I will be a tightrope walker,and I will walk across the air to you.”

“If you become a tightrope walker and walk across the air,” said the bunny,

“I will become a little boy and run into a house.”

“If you become a little boy and run into a house,”said the mother bunny,

“I will become your mother and catch you in my arms and hug you.”

“Shucks,” said the bunny,

“I might just as well stay where I am and be your little bunny.”

And so he did.

“Have a carrot,” said the mother bunny."

Swing Away! Will Went 3 for 3 On Tuesday

Will taking some practice swings before the pitch comes. Look at the energy of the swing and the strength of the stance. That was a different boy at the plate.

Attention Family and Friends: A change of attitude has occurred. Will is now ready to play baseball. Yesterday, he couldn't wait to get to the game. He knew he was going to hit it and he couldn't wait to do it. Today, he couldn't wait to get to practice.

I am a happy mom. Why you ask?

Because my little king faced his fears and won.

Is this the face of a boy afraid of the ball?
He is loving the game and feels confident. What happened between Tuesday and Last Thursday when I wrote that desperate blog entry? My sweet courageous boy decided to face his fears. Plus he had more experience batting because his dad took him to the batting cages on Saturday before the game and then pitched to him on Sunday and Monday. Will stayed in the box and swung at the ball and guess what. . .he hit it!!!! After he hit one squarely and sent it sailing, he said to his dad, "I knew I was going to hit that one!" I love it. I love that attitude of I Can! I love that he now has it and that makes all the difference. Now with practice he will fine tune his skills and grow as a player.

Hurrah for Will! 3 for 3


This is Will second at bat. I missed his first. He hit the first pitch that came squarely and sent it past the infield. He ran the bases and came home.

After fouling a few off, he hit his third hit and made it to first.

Another big accomplishment is that Will asked to play catcher. He hasn't wanted to because the last time he played he was hit in the leg with the ball. He wasn't squatting but sitting on his knees and so the pitched whirled in and hit him in the thigh. Ouch! But yesterday, he asked to play!
Hurrah for Will, My Brave Little King



I asked Will how it felt to hit the ball after the game and this is what he showed me. He swang the bat and then took off running to first. I love the confidence. That's my boy!







Will gets his spoils for getting not just one hit but three! What does a little slugger want for a reward? His very own bag of Hot Chettos and Horchata (mexican rice milk drink) You got it Big Guy!

Cowboys and Indians in the 21st Century

Joshua and Owen playing cowboys and Indians.

I love pretend play. I find a child's ability to pretend to be a remarkable creative expression. I am amazed at their ability to invent scenarios and act them out. Their little worlds are so vast and open. They can become whomever or whatever they want. They can envision anything and make it come to pass in the living room or where ever they may be at the time. AWESOME!

When do we as adults loose this ability? What happens to us that we seem to get stuck in the reality of life. When do we decide that it is childish to dream and when does the dreaming stop. When do we lose the courage?

When my kids are pretend playing, I pretend, and this is about the only pretending I do anymore, that I am not listening. I don't want them to know that I am paying attention because then they get a little shy about their game.

O's and Joshua decided that they wanted to play Cowboys and Indians. I don't even know if that is a politically correct pretend scenario anymore. This is an an example of the adult world infringing upon the pretend play of children. I used to play indians when I was a kid. I loved to be an indian. My brother Rob, the yidda guy, and I made bows and arrows from branches and twigs that we found in our backyard. We had a ball. But apparently some people feel that pretending to be an indian can be offensive. I was surprised when the Claremont School District banned Thanksgiving Dinner celebrations at their schools because they felt it was offensive to people of Native American descent. There was no dressing up as Pilgrims and Indians in Claremont schools last November however, protesting parents enjoyed their turkey, stuffing, masked potatos and gravy dinners in the parking lot, outside of the schools, dressed as Pilgrims and Indians. Chalk one up for adults and pretend play.

When working out their game, Os and Joshua both agreed that they would get really tough guys on their teams and that they both would be able to fight bad guys, normal decisions when playing cowboys and indians, but then, what Owen said next, really blew me away. "Yeah, Joshua, and then on the NEXT LEVEL it will be really hard. Really tough!

What?

Next level?

Was he equating his playing cowboys and indians with a video game.

FOUL!

Alarms go off in my head. I chuckle to myself in disbelief. No way! I protest! My child's pretend play, especially connected with cowboys and indians, is not supposed to be set up like a video game.

Here Jushua pretends he has an arrow stuck in his leg. He had a whole posse trying to help him pull the offending arrow out of his leg. I finally became involved and extracted the deadly weapon from his leg.

Owen doesn't play a lot of video games, but he does play some. I am obviously not a fan of video games. Poor Mitchell had to wait until he was 8 years old before he got one and this only occured because he stopped asking for things for Christmas because he never got what he wanted anyway (a nintendo game system) He asked for 4 years before I finally caved.

I was abjectly against the parameters of Owen's pretend play. This is not allowed. Video games aren't allowed to seep their way into the innocence of my boys imagination. But then I realized that things were changing. The world is changing. Technology guarantees it. I've seen it before when I watched Owen hold up a pretend camera to take a picture, and instead of putting it up to his eye, he held it out arms length like he was seeing the picture from the LCD screen in the back of the camera.

Don't worry, I didn't intercede in the pretend play and tell him that his game can't have levels (although I don't like it one bit.) My little guys pretend world is his own. He can make it how ever and what ever he wants it to be. I accept it.

Now, how can I sabotage the X box?

HELP!

Remember how I said that I NOW like baseball?

After 30 some odd years of having a laissez faire attitude towards the game. Comme ci comme ca as the French would say: it was there, I knew it was there, I didn't mind it being there and sometimes I would visit it but pretty much didn't care about the outcome, unless of course the Giants were playing and then I did care because their performance deeply affected Richard's happiness. When the Angels beat the Giants in the world series, our family was in mourning for weeks, But that is another blog entry all together.

But now, NOW I love the game. I love getting him dressed up in his uniform every game day, the stripped pants, the game socks, the jersey, the hat, the belt and the cleats. I mean look at how adorable my little, tough guy is. Doesn't he look great. I love it, the problem is . . . my son doesn't.

What do I do?

When he was little, he would love hitting the wiffle ball with the bat. He can do it, it is in him to do it, but when it comes to that hardball, all things change. First he was hit smack in the chin, next he as hit, thud in the chest, shortly there after he was hit, crunch in the thigh (I think it was on this day when he was playing catcher) a week later he was beaned, bonk on the back and last week his friend was hit, tink squarely on the helmet and all with the hard ball. It was after seeing this that Will simply stated, I am not batting. I am not going up. NO WAY, NO HOW. He sat out the rest of the game and then didn't get snack. He was disappointed about not getting snack, but really didn't care about sitting out. For him I think it is a matter of survival.

I've tried all kinds of tactics. Once before a game, I talked to him about the ball and how the ball is really afraid of him. I showed him the look on the balls face as it comes whirling at him. I explained how it is really scared of him because it knows that Will can send it out of the ball park. He seemed to get a little fired up, but I think deep down doesn't really believe.

As we prepared for the next practice, Will and I had a conversation. "I don't like baseball. I don't want to go to practice."

"Yes you are. Your team needs you."

"I don't like it. I don't want to go."

"You can't quit. You made a commitment. Your going to keep it. Did you know you were hitting with the bat when you were three years old!"

"I was?" Will says curiously, "I want to see a picture."

"Okay I will show you. You can hit that ball!"

"No I can't." It is at this point that I tell him about how he has to believe in himself and I talk to him about visualizing him catching and hitting the ball in his head.

"Okay Will, close your eyes. Your at the plate, the pitcher pitches the ball in and you can see it clearly and you swing and CRACK! you hit the ball. It is passing the pitcher and then the second baseman! Do you see it?" I say, all proud of myself at my ability to influence my son in a positive way. "Do you see yourself doing it Will?" I say smiling.

"I see a squirrel hitting it!" he says with a big smile on his face giggling.

"You have to see you doing it!" I say, ignoring the silly animated squirrel comment. I repeat a very similar scenario and again ask, "Did you see yourself doing it?" Will is sitting there with his eyes shut head tilted back, face shadowed by the brim of his hat, he is smiling.

"I see a worm hitting it!" he says snickering.

On the way to practice, we have a chat. "Will I know that your scared, but you can't quit because you are. You have to face your fears and go to practice. You have to try your best and not choose to be afraid. I remind him about Cowardly Clyde the horse (a great Bill Peet book) who chose to act brave even though he didn't feel it." He sat uninterested.

When we get there Will drops to his knees and says how he doesn't feel good and can't go to practice. He is whimpering and whining.

"I guess I have to take you home then and put you to bed!" I say hoping that he will straighten himself up and go to practice, but instead, he continues to whine.

"I don't feel good." and this is when I try the tough Sargeant Mom act. (only it isn't an act. It is for real. Often I have to be the sargeant, don't we all! and Sargeant Mom is mean) Will whimpers and I knock the bat on the cement say,"Stand up! Stop Whimpering and go out and play ball. No more whining, time to be brave."

"Okay." he says, afraid of Sargent mom and walks out to play. When he got there a teammate calls him over to play catch and Will joins in. Thank goodness.

The coach thinks we should put Will down to T-ball, I disagree. Although he is young, he is in the right place. I think he just needs more practice.

The next game, Will gets up twice and doesn't even swing at the ball the first time, and then next at bat swings twice half heartedly after I bribe him with a scoop of ice cream for each time he swung at the ball. (my brothers idea, I am trying everything.) Then in the out field, he folds his arms and stands straight legged. If that isn't an act of defiance and A bold statement that I don't want to be here, than I don't know what is.

So after the game Sargeant Mom appears again, he loses his TV, video game privileges and a play date he is supposed to have with one of his team mates. He is very sad, but I say he can earn them back if he tries when he is out there at the next game. I have to see that he is trying to do his best when he is playing. That is all I ask that I see him doing his best.

So help me out. I am drowning here. Do I force my son to stay in a game he is obviously hating at the moment. My feelings are yes, and it is more than just the cute uniform. He made a commitment and he needs to finish it. He needs to understand that his team is counting on him, he needs to face this fear that plagues him and WIN! We are obviously battling, Will and I, and Will is battling with himself and the fear is winning, not good. Our kids face things all through their life that require courage, he needs to learn that he can face his fears and win.

What do I do? Any suggestions, advice, opinions?

UPDATE: Will and I tossed the tennis ball around on Friday and he was very confidant catching, Richard took Will to the batting cages yesterday morning, and at the game, Will had some strong swings at the ball. So obviously exposure and practice helps, but I want to hear your advice and your opinions.

I need a little help here.

Sincerely,

I don't like Sargeant Mom. She's a hard-nosed and demanding.