Our five
year old son is very witty. The problem is though, there are times when this
wittiness comes off as rude and so we have been looking out for those
instances and try to deal with them appropriately, because my husband and I are
on the same page, where we have zero tolerance for rudeness from any of our
children.
With
this said, just last evening our son asked for what he called his favorite
night time snack, grilled cheese sandwich. The thing is, early that day I had a
mishap, which resulted in a spill, which resulted in the bread being wet. I
only noticed this when I was making the grilled cheese sandwich for him and I
proceeded in hopes that the toaster oven would dry the excess moisture out of
the bread. He returned a little time after he received the sandwich and said to
his dad and I, “It is like someone wet up this bread, and I do not like it.”
The tone came off in a ‘just so you know’ kind of way. My husband glanced at me
and said, I am scared of this little boy, he is just too smart and witty.
On two
occasions he asked me, stopping whatever he was doing and looking eagerly as he awaits
my response, “why did you and daddy chose me?” (I guess in his innocent little world, this is his spin to procreation). The first time he asked me this
question, I could not answer right away because this is not a question I was
ever expecting from a 5 year old. Anyway, I gained my composure and responded, “we
chose you because you are a handsome and smart little boy.” He did not seem to
have gotten it at first and so I repeated my response. Sometime after this, he
asked me the same question and remembering very well my response from the last
time, I answered him without hesitation.
While
pondering how to formulate this post in the wee hours of this morning, I realized
that I was by no means satisfied with the response I gave to his question. I
should have told him more. I should have told him how difficult it was for us
to have him and how God sent him as a special miracle and gift to us after a
long time of struggling, at least the parts of our story that he can understand
at this time.
Our son
stutters. You might have remembered me mentioning this in a few of my past
posts. Well, last night I dreamed that I saw him struggling to say something
that he wanted to say so much. When I saw his face getting red and his blocking
becoming more and more severe, I rushed over to him, cupped his face in my
hands and whispered to him, you will be alright son, you will be alright. I
picked him up and began to cry. I guess I was just reacting to the difficulties
I had as child who stutter and just felt scared for my child, now that it is
his turn.
I have
been preparing him as much as he can understand at this age. I have asked him
if he noticed that he speaks a little differently from his peers, I tell him it
is called stuttering to which I give him an example, ‘it is when you are trying
to say a word and it comes out like mmmommy.’ I have also been looking out for
signs of him being targeted for ridicule. I am happy to report that there is
none to date, and he does not seem the least bit bothered about how he talks. I am comforted in
knowing though, that with his sharp wit, whenever he becomes aware, he should be able to handle, much
better than me, all that will be thrown at him, as a result of his stutter.
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