Created Differently

This weekend we waved goodbye to the Beach Week-bound car full of teenagers, as Oldest hit the highway for his first ever parent-free week. Gulp. In typical teenager style Oldest came home from hanging with the girlfriend, changed his clothes, came downstairs with his bags in hand and said "okay guys, I'm gone." Um. What?

We rushed outside and gave the boys the quick impromptu "you can be arrested, you know" and "don't be reckless" and "do you even know where you're going?" speeches. Then we made them grab hands and have a quick word of prayer. Lord! Watch those boys please! Off they went, driving through the night. We already know teenagers don't pick the smartest plan most of the time. I am happy to say my good morning text revealed they had arrived safely. So, again...Lord, watch those boys, please!

This being the first experience with my sweet Oldest where I literally am praying for his sound mind and good judgment to equate to safe-keeping bears explaining. You see, this is the type of child who has always been passive and quiet, typically content with playing with his cars on the floor as a child. There were no emergency room visits, no heart-dropping incidents with him. No bike accidents, skateboard trauma or rollerblade blood. As a football-player we did have a broken ankle and another time of a chipped bone. Both of those were very painful. For him too, we're sure.

But, with all of that, this was and is a non-drama child. On the flip side of this, would be this boy's face:












Oh, goodness. This weekend's festivities included a face-first slide down the sidewalk as this precious boy went flying off his bike. Sigh. He is not the shy, quiet type. Last year as we launched summer the boy gashed his face on a scooter handlebar that had somehow lost its padding. The ragged edge of the metal put an evil mark on his beautiful face. For that incident, his awesome great big sister carried him all the way up to the house, composure intact, blood spewing from his face. Friends, when I got in the kitchen with him and cleaned his face off, I promise I was looking at an Avatar. His eyes were swollen and slanted and the bruising around this gash was blue. I began to feel faint and to The Hub's extreme amusement, I myself needed to lay flat on the floor to keep from fainting. Seriously. In retrospect it was funny. In fact, at the moment it was funny. Youngest was looking at me like I had lost my mind, he being the injured party and all. For about ten seconds he stopped wailing to just watch me slowly sink to the floor "It's okay, I'm okay..." I kept repeating. I can tell you I might have been "okay" but I was feeling like I was quite the sight. All I could imagine was my poor gorgeous boy having to move to Avatar land forever.

Fast-forward almost one whole year exactly and the scar from the stitches is barely visible. In another year or so it won't be visible at all. But here we go again. The boy goes for a bike ride and naturally...naturally he HAS to zoom past his sister. I meant, duh. He absolutely has to be the first on the ride, right? Anyone who knows our family knows that Youngest and Bball Girl CAN NOT fit on any sidewalk at the same time. There isn't a sidewalk wide enough in the world to hold those two. Competitive much? That little fella went to wobbling and crashed. Face first.

It is important to note that I stayed home from this bike ride. I was alerted to the fun when The Hub asked me to come put some Neosporin on the boy while he went to retrieve the girls from their waiting location. I walked into Youngest's room to find him sprawled on the bed like he had a spider on his face, eyes crossed inward trying to see the action and his arm propped up to stop the non-existent blood gushing that he was sure was happening. Thank God, no ER visit attached to this. He actually laid still for over 20 minutes. This NEVER happens. "See," I told him, "you're white like mommy underneath." Ah, the Rach. Always seeing the bright side.

My realization in this is this boy is fearless. There is not a reservation in his body that keeps him from leaping full speed ahead in things. He moves quickly and constantly. Oldest...complete opposite. Aren't your oldest kids supposed to prepare you to handle the ones that come after? I'm afraid Oldest has not done his job. Oh, boy. Oldest and Youngest. Created differently and beautifully. Something to remember as each one of us interact with each other. We are each created just the way God wanted us to be. Whether we are the shy, quiet type or we are the adventurous, shred-the-face type, we are each a treasure.

So, both my boys are special and unique. Oldest gave us lots of breathing room. Youngest, well, let's just say I'll let you know when my blood pressure returns to normal. It'll be awhile.