Fun Fling

 Once a year we gather up a good chunk of the 4th and 5th graders, run them in circles with the pool/rock wall/basket ball court/wall ball courts at the Club, feed them copious amounts of sugar, play a counselor hunt type game, watch movies, pretend for a few hours like we are sleeping, feed them breakfast, and send them home to their parents.

Mainly it is a chance to connect with them in that weird place somewhere between more-grown-up-than-we-let-them-be-at-Sunday-school and younger-than-they-have-to-be-at-school. Which, really means that they get to just flat out act their age.

What I learned is that the curled up, frightened, hypervigilant, sweet, goofy, intuitive little ball in the lower right corner of the picture, still remembers me from when I was his kindergarten Sunday school teacher. (Five years since I last got to interact with him. Five. Years.) When he found out that we would be riding in the same car to and from the gym, he told his sister, "She's an awesome leader!"

Haha. Thanks, kiddo. I wish I was half as cool as you think I am.

When he was little, we joked that he would have to fight off the girls with a stick because of his dark, gorgeous eyes. During the overnight, those eyes tracked me everywhere. He knew me, and, if he knew where I was, he was "safe." If I was watching the food line, he could watch it a little less carefully. When I walked into the room at breakfast, his little shoulders sagged with relief.

(He was thrilled that they hadn't found me during the counselor hunt, because it meant that I was "sneaky." [Soft and quiet and good at hiding - all of the things that help keep little people safe when big people are angry.] In his mind, it somehow meant that, when he thought that I got it, I really did understand.) 

But there were smiles. There were real, excited smiles, and laughter, and the ability to play even while other people were still finishing breakfast.

He's come so far since the wide eyed, frightened kindergartener who refused to roll up his sleeves and took his gloves off once all year. (Yes, we counted.) He's gotten out of an unhealthy situation and he's growing and changing at a mind boggling rate. And, he's picked up some amazingly intuitive little boys as friends, boys who push him and protect him and encourage his confidence - all without really realizing that they're doing anything at all.

Have I mentioned that I am proud of my kids?