The Beauty of Little Boys

I have never really understood men. I've heard men describe men, and I've read books describing men, and while I love all the men in my life dearly, I do not understand them. But there is something about little boys that allows you to look into the soul of a child a glimpse the kind of man he could become. 

I was reminded of that today at work. Jason, the seven year old I watch, hurt his hand while we were playing jump rope. I could tell it really hurt him, but instead of crying, he reacted in a completely different way. He grimaced, shook his hand slightly, and assured me that he was alright. It amazes me that this little boy with a love of discussing body fluids, who shakes his butt to Hannah Montana, and spends more time shoving his feet into his little sisters face than playing nice with her, would respond that way. In no other facet of his life his he mature. He has all the charm of seven year old, the energy, the appetite, the high pitched girly scream that he uses to rupture ear drums... but at seven he behaves as a man does, and doesn't make a big deal about getting hurt. He doesn't cry, he doesn't complain, he won't even admit it to the babysitter he professes love for and routinely uses as a seat cushion. It's funny, I've known his since he was three and I don't ever remember him really crying. 

He's not my son, so you may think it strange that I feel this way, but in that moment i was so proud of him. I was proud to see him growing up to be a strong young man. Yes he's seven and loves to jump to the rhyme "Cinderella dressed in yellow" while I teach his sister how to turn a jump rope, but I saw in him today a little bit of the man he will become and that it took my breath away. It was just a small reminder of why I love to work with children.

#1 of who knows how many

Today began with sleeping in late. I've figured out the exact time necessary for me to leave in order to get to work on time, and how long it takes me to get ready if I shower the night before and don't eat breakfast. I literally got out of bed at the last possible second. I was comfortable and hate getting out of bed in the morning. So, no breakfast, but I poured some cereal in a baggy and munched on it in the car like I was three or something. I know it's important to eat breakfast, but I'm really bad at it. 

I got to work right on time, only to remember it's spring break week, which means instead of one kid, I've got two. I'm a nanny by the way. For two different families. Three kids and two kids. All five kids from youngest to oldest are 12, 11, 8, 7, and almost 3. Usually I only watch the almost three year old, because her brother has school on tuesdays. Today, no such luck. Still, it was a relatively good day. We built Lego towers, ate marshmellow cookies, went to the park, and watched some Dora the explorer before a lunch of pizza and strawberries and nap time. Mom came home early, and so I got to leave early. 

Stopped by Adrielle's (best friend #1) house for my make up. I wasn't at school today, so I didn't really care that I wasn't wearing make up, but I have it tomorrow so I needed to pick it up. Stopped by the bank for usual errands, and then came home. Kendall (best friend #2) called and we spent some time talking until door-to-door salesmen showed up. I spent a good 45 minutes messing with them, which I must admit was extremely enjoyable. I would have actually bought their product if it had been cheaper. 

Other then that nothing much happened. Watched some tv with padre. And I'm going to Tae Kwon Do class tonight, which should be fun.