The Peter Puzzle

Peter has a list of struggles that have not appeared on the blog, and they won't tonight. In addition to those unnamed trials, he's now full of nearly-teenager hormones that steal away his already limited ability to be rational and calm and flexible. As his lack of adaptability has grown stronger, the gray hairs on my head have increased. Peter is not an easy kid.

That's why two choices that he made at the park today stood out to me as extraordinary.

We have a standing Friday morning park date with some families in the neighborhood. Most of the kids are small and Peter is getting into that awkward, am-I-too-big-for-playgrounds stage. This morning I let him take his remote control motorcycle with him, with strict instructions to keep the toy away from everyone else's feet. He mostly obeyed, but not entirely and I could feel my annoyance at the toy and my boy grow.

I focused my attention away from Peter and to the other children and moms that had joined us. After a short time, I heard squeals of delight from behind me. A crowd of small boys, probably three and four year olds, had gathered tightly around the motorcycle.

This would usually agitate Peter. Typically, he would walk quickly over to the group, extricate his toy, not look directly at anyone or answer any questions, and retreat to a safe place. Then he would tell me he didn't want to be there anymore and would persist until I had put him in timeout or we all left.

But not today.

Today he stood a small distance from the boys. He had a sweet, secretive smile on his face. When he saw that I had noticed, he walked over and explained. The boys thought that when they touched the toy, they were making it move. Peter had been watching them closely and bumping the control in his hand each time one of the boys touched the vehicle. Peter told me he had found a way to keep that whole group entertained and I could tell he was genuinely happy. He wasn't doing it to cause a scene, just to be friendly to some other kids.

Then, a few minutes later, we noticed that one of the little girls in our group was leaning on one of the park benches, her face on the seat. Her mom thought she was probably just looking at the grass through the holes in the bench. But Peter wasn't sure, so he walked across the playground and softly called her name. He leaned down and asked if she was okay and if she wanted to play. Then he came back and reported that he didn't think she felt well. Her mom got her and held her for a time.

These two sweet acts of kindness were tender mercies to this mom's heart. I fear that I am sometimes so focused on the naughtiness and the attitude that I miss the good moments. I am so deeply grateful that I was watching today and saw Peter be who he truly is. Yes, we still had hard things to get through today with our boy, but that reminder of Peter's kindness has stayed in the front of my brain throughout.

Peter has struggles. But they are outnumbered by his strengths.