Guns & Halloween

I couldn't believe my eyes, but there was one of my neighbors, a 7-year-old boy, dressed in khaki like a solider stationed in Iraq. And slung over his should was a machine gun. That he pointed at people.

I understand that gun play is a normal part of childhood, but can we at least require some imagination if we're going to allow it? Why do we have to go to the nth degree to be realistic? Light sabers, swords, wands I can handle; their power is something we have to think up (well, not so much with swords, but how often do you see those?) Machine guns are real and frightening images a lot of kids have to deal with daily in war-torn areas. But this is not one of them. So why bring it in? I suppose that children of service members might see this as normal and honorable. But it still gives me the willies.

I said nothing during the big community gathering and had almost forgotten about it until he came to my door. And then I muttered something like, "Wow, that gun makes me uncomfortable. Please point it down." Later, an older kid with a leather jacket outfit had a big gun, too, and he got something more like, "I have a little kid and I don't like him to see guns. Maybe you can rethink that next year" before I added a cheerily contradictory, "But have a good night!"

I couldn't let these images go, but I know my comments probably didn't do any good and maybe just made me seem like a grump. So be it. I just wonder what the parents are thinking by letting this go so public. It's one thing to let kids glorify violence in your own home or to just plain let them pick up sticks and do whatever with them. Fine. Kids need to act out the whole range of human emotions and impulses. That's healthy.

But bringing a fake machine gun to the community playground after a parade where there are babies and toddlers? Can't we wait until after dark? Why is this okay?

I stand corrected

So, we did have a nice beginning to the school year as described last week. But then, on Tuesday, I got The Call. My son's teacher had to let me know that he'd bitten his friend's arm.

I freaked out. I cried. I felt horrible. Why is he feeling so much tension? Why can't I model for him how to just roll with the punches?

I sobbed and told him we needed to be nice to our friends or then maybe we wouldn't be able to play with them. I didn't yell or belittle, but apparently I did shame him, because the teacher told me the next day that he stuck close to her for a while and told her at lunch, "Don't call my mommy again because she cried because I was bad." I never use judgment words with him, and I really hope he didn't seriously use that word. But regardless, he took on my pain. That is not what I want. That's the last thing I want.

So it was an upsetting week, even if we did avoid the TV the whole week and he happily enjoyed playing in the kitchen while I made dinner instead of whining about something else he wanted to do or begging me to play with him. We coexisted peacefully a lot of the time

Except, that is, when things set him off. He was crushed that he didn't get to put the soap in the dishwasher, even though he was chatting with me while I did it. The world had come to an end. And he tried to hit me, as though mocking the fact that I was about to go off and lead a Holistic Moms meeting with a speaker on Craniosacral Therapy.

I sure was glad that I'd made an appointment for acupuncture weeks earlier when he'd had his first-in-a-long-time biting episode. As I wrote on my other blog, I think the acupuncture really helped -- both of us. It was a great weekend with few frustrations and lots of lovely weather. I hope he and I can both remember to breathe and enjoy what we're given.

My poor little dude

My son is having such a rough time. Even before this weekend, he was already chewing on his hands and having a tough time with all the transitions going on, what with all the stress of the impending move. I've been sitting him with pillows all around when we read books, and I do think this helps him feel safe and secure.

But it's not enough to weather the tornado swirling around him. After our travel to Michigan this past weekend, resulting in a big sleep deficit, he got thrown further off kilter by the weird schedule in general and in particular by some chocolate and a little gluten at the grandparents' 50th anniversary party. He whined and cried during Sunday night's flight home, he was really tough to be around on Monday, and on Tuesday, he apparently pushed all the kids in Spanish class. The teacher said she didn't recognize him; he's usually so gentle and loving.

I took him today to a previously scheduled craniosacral therapy appointment. In the midst of our crazy move (contractors here this week, we move this weekend ourselves and next week with a company doing the furniture), I wanted to scrap the appt., which was a 30-minute drive away (this time an hour on the Beltway in rush hour to get home). But clearly it was needed. The dr. (Ron) said that E's sagittal suture was pretty stuck and that that connected to closedness in his back. Ron worked on that section last time, but he also said this time that cabin pressure from the flight might have caused a problem.

After 25-30 min. Ron felt fine letting E play (which he did happily) and then working on me. He worked a lot on my gut and then on my head just a bit, but enough to totally erase the headache I walked in with.

Let's hope we all wake up in a decent mood tomorrow. Oops. It's already tomorrow. And I still don't know what color paint to tell the contractor to get. If I have to drag that kid back to the paint store one more time, I don't know what he'll try to get me to buy. I think this calls for Shopping While the Kid is in Childcare. Assuming I don't get a call to come pick up my little brute.