Our neighbors directly across the street had a birthday party for their boy turning four. Scout was invited, and he was elated. So after his quiet time, I showed him the wrapped present and got him all ready. It was then that he informed me, “Mom…I am going to walk there all by myself. With no Bella, or Sissy, or Daddy, or Nonnie or you.” He then proceeded to say, “And when I’m at the party, I am going to be there all by myself.” The only saving grace was when he ended it with, “But if you want to come over later….you can.” I told him that all of the other mommies would be there, but he stuck to his original plan — sans me! I was kinda bummed.
So before I knew it, he was gone. I didn’t even tell him it was time, but the sounds of the kids playing gave him the go ahead. So about a minute after he left, I went out the front door to see my sweet little boy walking all the way around the cul-de-sac with his present tightly gripped in his hands. (I was so proud that even when nobody was atching, he followed the rules by staying on the sidewalk and not walking in the road.)
I snapped a shot, and he looked but kept walking. I waved goodbye to him, and watched him walk confidently to the neighbor’s house. (These neighbors only moved in two months ago, and we don’t know them very well.) As I was peeking from around my car, I saw Scout stop and just stand still for a moment. He then turned to look back in my direction. When I saw he was looking for me, I popped out and asked, “Do you need your Mommy to come with you?” And he said, “yeah.”
I happily sprinted over and grabbed his hand.
The party was a little boy’s dream. There were tons of Hot Wheels race tracks set up everywhere, and all of the kids just played and raced cars all afternoon. Even Micah thought it was really cool when he stopped by. But as much as he loved the party — I loved it even more. Purely because I was still welcome.
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