Anyone who knows my son knows he is a sensitive soul. There is no one other than myself to thank for that one. I can remember holding onto my mother's leg for safety, crying at the slightest separation, feeling anxious when encountered with change, and being very shy. I still feel anxious and shy in certain situations but I've also learned to fake the confidence when necessary. I didn't separate well until I was in my twenties....yes, my twenties. My mother gave me the ultimatum at 21 to go to school full time or work full time but part time at each wasn't going to cut it for her anymore. I chose to go away and cried like a baby when my mother left me at college. It was those particular qualities I did not want to see in my own kids.
I do agree that many of us unwillingly pass things to our children. Being aware of this, I am conscientious of my behaviors in front of my kids. I do not run away screaming from bugs and insects, despite the fact that I do not care for the fluttery flight of butterflies. I have pet a snake, tarantula, and giant cockroach, and even saved a few mice in the house. I will try new foods, say hello and smile to everyone, and attempt to talk to someone in the same situation as me so my kids can see how to make the best of an acquaintance. I welcome the opportunity to experience new things so it can be a time for learning with my children. Because of my extra consideration, I take it very personally when it is suggested that my children learned how to react unfavorably by watching me. Those types of comments will unleash the mother bear in me.
I've often referred to Jacob as a puddin'. I have never said it in front of him or another child; It's been brought up in conversation amongst my own friends and family. My term for him is not meant to be derogatory but rather to simply put his sensitivity into one word. Knowing how much I suffered from being sensitive, I felt like I had to come up with a way to fix this. I've tried explanations, tough love, the dreaded comparisons (which I know are wrong), and I've even attempted to let Randy 'handle' the situation. The truth is, Jacob is who he is and, in my road to the acceptance of things I cannot change, I'm coming to terms with it not being a negative trait but instead being one that should be embraced.
Yes, I have a hard time not feeling flustered when he cries over a minor trip to the floor, climbs the walls when it's time for a needle, screams like he's broken when he sees a drop of blood, shakes at the mere thought of a Band-Aid, and, overall, makes a big deal out of the slightest bump he may take. It especially wears on me when he acts like that while his younger sister can fall with such intensity to cause her to slide across the terrain, skin her knee, or get scratched by the cat with nothing more than a stunned look on her face followed by a giggle. I've commented to myself more than once that I'm glad a certain fall happened to her and not him. I've even begun to dread the time when his first tooth is loose. It may very well be Kyla who pulls his tooth out. But let's not jump ahead; I'm madly in love with Jacob's baby toothed grin.
On Valentine's Day, a day both kids were very excited about, Jake witnessed something upsetting to him and may remember it for quite some time, though I don't talk about it unless he brings it up. He was on the bus coming home from school and there was a four-vehicle accident on the other side of the street. The bus driver had her window open and Jake sits behind her so he had a front row seat to the destruction as well as overhearing what was going on out there. The accident was bad enough for a helicoptor to come take the responsible driver away. He got off the bus fifteen minutes later than usual, shaky and in tears. He was out of sorts for a couple of hours, requested to sit with me and didn't take kindly to me leaving him for any length of time. We discussed the situation as soon as he was ready and he felt much better. Unfortunately, I endured criticism in response to his reaction. The next day, I spoke with his Guidance Counselor who helped me see things in a different light. He said he doesn't see enough sensitive children and that crying is a good thing, a coping mechanism. He would worry more about the kids who showed no emotion and spoke not a word. He commended Jacob for being able to cry and reminded me that this is, in fact, how he deals and attempts to overcome.
In addition to being sensitive, Jacob is also concerned for the feelings of others and seems to be aware of emotional changes in those around him. He is steadily overcoming his shyness and I can see his attempts at holding himself together knowing his sister wouldn't have cried over 'that'. He likes to say he is tough though I know his "toughness" is very thin and just beyond that layer is my favorite puddin'. He is much braver than I ever was and is already a hero in my eyes.
As a fairly new parent, I am a work in progress. I am lending effort to accepting what is beyond my control and will continue to revel in the steps my son takes, even though they may seem insignificant to others. I will cherish his vulnerabilites and know being sensitive is not a weakness. I may roll my eyes now at how easily the puddin' in him comes out but, someday, I will witness him shed a tear at his wedding and cry as he holds his new baby and know how lucky his mate is to have such a wonderful soul in my baby boy.
