Lost Innocence

At church on Wednesday night I realized that my boy has lost a bit of his innocence, and it broke my heart.

Like most kids, Hardy inhabits his own world. He is usually lost in a vivid world of his own imagining; one in which he usually figures largely as a tractor or a dog or a fireman. He can be oblivious to others around him, happy in the inner world he has created. I love that he can create such a world, although at times it can be incredibly frustrating (I mean, I shouldn't have to tell my 4 year that he is not really a dog so please do not jump on your friends when they come to visit). This is the boy who barks, or meows, or honks, or revs his engine in greeting. So I have never imagined that he is bothered by what others think of him.

After dinner at church on Wednesday night, Hardy picked up Justin's big, heavy winter coat and put it on. He started goofing around a bit with Justin and myself, pretending to be his daddy. Then it happened. Some older kids, playing nearby, saw what Hardy was doing and laughed. Hardy noticed them laughing at him and promptly took off the coat, stopping his play.

I have to admit it hurt me to see him care what others thought of him. I know this is a part of normal life, and not necessarily a bad part. Fear of what others thinks keeps me from wearing my old ratty pajamas to the store, so it is not always a bad thing. But I didn't want my kid learning this fear yet. I had hoped, somewhat naively, that he could bypass this fear entirely.

I try not to care what others think of me and how I look. I feel that if anyone has a problem with how I look, especially when I am covered, then it reflects more on them than on myself. I've been known to dance in the aisles of Wal-Mart, to make silly faces to my kids in the grocery, and to sing (off-key) enthusiastically to the Muzak. I'm comfortable in who I am, and I am ok with the fact that some might think I am weird.

So this is the lesson I am trying to determine how to best impart to my kids without seeming preachy. I am not sure how to teach Hardy (and Ellie) that it is ok to act silly at times, to be silly at times. Sometimes the silliness helps us get through the tough times, the times when life is bleak and hopeless. I know that remembering I have waltzed my way down the aisle at Wal-Mart has made me smile when the world was in flames around me. So if Hardy ever reads this one day, I want him to continue to be goofy, to be his authentic self. At the end of the day, it is the only way to live.