Not wanting to grow up

I was by myself tonight. After days of full-time duty with the kids, Mandy got out tonight, and I put both both kids to bed.  Elliot was first, and as is way, he wanted mommy up to the point I laid in bed with him.  He was out in minutes. I’d hoped Noah was putting himself to sleep.  It happens about 80% of the time when we start with E.

I stepped out of Elliot’s room, walking softly and listening for any sound from Noah’s room.  Unlike other nights, I thought I heard a weird sound. I couldn’t initially tell if it was real or not, and if it was, whether it was coming from E’s room or Noah’s.  I finally went into Noah’s room and found him crying in his bed. I was confused, because he was just fine when we were reading stories a few minutes before. I asked what was wrong.

"I don't want to turn 5 tomorrow, I'm scared of going to heaven."
“You’re not going to heaven for a long, long time.  There’s nothing to be afraid of in turning 5.”
“If I go to heaven, I’m afraid I’ll be lonely.”
“If you ever go to heaven, you’ll be there with lots of friends.”
“But you and mom won’t be there.”
“We will be there. But you’re only turning 5. If you go to heaven, you’ll probably be 100. It won’t happen for a long, long time.”

It was heartbreaking. He was afraid of getting older for some reason, most likely because he though he closer to dying and going to heaven. I wondered again why he was thinking about it like that. After more discussions about how fun it was to turn 5, and how fun it was to get older, he finally told me he was excited about his birthday tomorrow, but I could tell he was just saying it for my benefit, and was still thinking about heaven.

He eventually fell asleep, and as I looked at that innocent face, I was surprised again that he’d been thinking about something that I had no idea about, and it made me think again about my ability, or lack thereof, to shield him from fear and worry.

I love this kid.  And as hard as I try, he’ll never know how much.

Scientific discovery

Noah was up early for breakfast a few days ago.  As he was getting ready to dig into some cereal for breakfast, I handed him a spoon. I'm not sure how the discussion came up, but I know I mentioned to him that if he looked at the spoon from the outside, he can see his face right side up, and if he looked at it from the inside, he would appear upside down.  

I said it offhandedly, but it took his complete attention for the next 10 minutes.  He asked me about it, and for the next 10 minutes I tried desperately to remember, and explain to a 4-year old, high school physics rules about the bend of light and reflections.  Fortunately, I think he was more distracted by the fact that he could see himself upside down, then right side up.  

He never did finish his cereal.

Noah on marriage

Noah for some reason was talking about marriage last night. He doesn't really know what it means. I had no idea how hard it is to explain this concept to a 3 1/2 year old. He said something about all of us being married. I told him that Paul & I were, but he wasn't. I tried to explain it simply saying that when he is grown up and loves a girl, they can get married and live in their own house together and have their own kids. He said "ohhh", but had this blank look like he didn't get it. So I went on to say more. I don't remember all of the back and forth, but I explained he might do it when he's around 30 years old and that it's when he loves a girl a whole bunch and wants to live with her forever. He said "Forever?!?! I don't want that!"

Then he got all sad and said so pitiful "I can't be married because I'm not a grown up. So I guess I'll just have to build my castle all by myself". He got up and walked into the playroom so defeated and pitiful, looking at the ground to his blocks. I felt so bad. I asked if I could build the castle with him and he said no, because we weren't married. I don't get where he came up with that, but I just gave up and asked if he wanted to be married to me. He smiled, said yes, hugged me and we built a castle together.