While riding to preschool one afternoon, Thing One had an almost deflated red balloon with a green ribbon in the back of the minivan with him. He had found it in the cafeteria after school one day when he was with his Dad. He asked if he could bring it into school with him to put in his locker until he could play with it in his Dad's classroom after school.
Sure, I said.
We pulled into the parking lot and I had him hop out of the van while getting the other two out. I was concentrating on unbuckling Thing Two when all of a sudden I hear this scream,
NOOOOO!!!
I turn to see Thing One in full sprint through the knee-deep snow, chasing the red balloon that was floating rapidly away across a field. He (and the escapee) were nearing the edge of a busy road and I feared that Thing One would just keep up the pursuit, right into the road.
STOP! PLEASE STOP! I screamed as desperate as I could sound and felt.
Thankfully he did.
And by doing so, he let the red balloon float across the road into a neighboring resting corn field.
Then he turned toward me.
With the most sad look I've seen on his face in a long time.
Running toward me, jeans and tennies full of snow, he burst out into a full sob and I just rushed up to meet him with a huge hug, my heart breaking.
He cried and I held him.
Yes, it was a stupid deflated balloon.
But for a moment his heart broke and so did mine for him.
A minute later, Thing One said, No big deal. It was an old balloon anyway. I don't care. It doesn't matter. And into school we walked.
He was using all the great self-talk his social worker Maba taught him. Part of me wanted to say, yes, it IS a big deal, just to let him know his sadness over things was ok to express. The other part of me knew, it was an old balloon. Good God Maba, let it go.
So I took his lead and let it go.
But he still has talked about that red balloon in the days since and how sad he was.
I'm just glad I was there so that he had arms to run into and feel loved.
