The world as viewed through the innocent eyes of a child never ceases to amaze me. As the horrific images from Boston streamed into our lounge room this morning, I fought back tears. My two lovely boys sat playing in another room. I would like to shield them from the knowledge of such devastating acts for as long as I can, because honestly, they'll unfortunately learn the terrible facts soon enough. But unknowingly, Angus chose a rather apt morning to reflect on his recent Harmony Day experience at school. He asked when his class will be able to celebrate it again... because it was fun... and he loved it... and he wanted to understand why Harmony Day just couldn't be every day. My sentiments exactly, sweet child.
Despite my reluctance... and irrational fears... my big boy is playing footy. I think it took approximately three minutes after he entered the world before Scott imagined our boy charging down the field, ball in hand. But for Mama, it's taken a little longer. Like, five years longer. And I felt edgy and nervous and unsure of the decision to let him start this year... until I saw the look on his wee face as the jersey went on and the shorts tied up and the socks got taped and the mouthguard went in. Like watching a tiny piece of him grow up before my very eyes. Then observing him interact with his team mates and listen intently to his coach at training and try harder each week than the one before. And I realised. For now, this sport is actually good for him... even great for him. If he's happy, I'm happy.