There's a quality of mine I hope I do not pass on to One Philly Son.

Being nice.

Specifically being nice at the expense of his own needs.

Let me explain. Now that we venture out to public play dates, we occasionally (a lot more often than I am comfortable with) are confronted with children who want the toy One Philly Son has selected. I appreciate the parents who step in and say to their child "no, honey, you can't take toys from others" and am appalled at the parents who don't notice or intercede.

I have been conflicted and uncomfortable with how to react as the parent of the child who has had "his" toy yanked from his hand. I don't want to be rude, so even when the other parent apologizes and returns the toy, I make a joke, say it is no big deal and maybe even discount my son by saying something like "he'd probably get bored with it soon anyway."

Wrong life lesson, Mommy. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The lesson I fear I teach is that his boundaries can be crossed, someone else's needs are more important than his, and that niceness is more important than standing up for himself.

I'm going to have to practice a few new ways of handling this situation, but my goal is no longer to prioritize preserving the ego and dignity of a perfect stranger, but rather to teach my son respect and pride. For others and himself.

It's not my goal, but I bet I gain some in the process as well.

Tonight I'm caught thinking about the fragility of life, the ripple effect one small change or event can have.

I adore my son and wish him a happy, secure, successful life full of joy, love and confidence. But I know there will be tears, heartache, pain and hurt.

Part of me has the urge to try to prevent this inevitable pain, but I am forced to admit that my greatest growth and strength came from my times of great pain and turmoil.

So what really is the best thing to do for my son.

For a variety of reasons and circumstances, today was One Philly Son's last day at his day care. A day care he thrived in and loved. A day care I trusted and appreciated.

And I'm afraid the changes may lead down a path I wouldn't choose for my son.

I've lived long enough and through enough to realize that all new beginnings, no matter how wanted and longed for, come with a period of fear and self doubt. That first step down a new path is full of uncertainty, fear, and excitement.

There was a time I feared that those feelings were in some way an indication of the future success or failure of my new path, my new life. But now I know, that it's just life. Making a change probably should come with fear and uncertainty.

I'm ok with being afraid and unsure, but I also plan on feeling hopeful, excited, and looking forward to the coming changes.

So I'm feeling hopeful that this path leads to continued joy and blessings for my family.

One Philly Daddy and I subscribe to the philosophy that it is crucial to provide the very best that we can for One Philly Son (and any future additions). Of course, I imagine most parents feel this way.
We live in a great school district and have hoped to afford a larger house within said school district. But also agree, whatever One Philly Son would need,we would do our best to provide, whether that means tutors or classes or whatever. We have memberships to the Philadelphia Zoo, Please Touch Museum, and Sesame Place. I take him to storytime at the library and plan to sign him up for music or tumbling classes in the Spring.
This past weekend we went to The Little Treehouse and a Valentine Party with Elmo at Sesame Place.
All of these activities are fun, but also expose One Philly Son to the ideas of play, imagination, sharing, socializing, boundaries, and much more.
But they cost money too. One Philly Daddy and I are very, very blessed to have the means to provide these activities for our family, and I'm aware of how lucky we are.

Beyond financial means, there is also the philosophical outlook that we have in common. We do not subscribe to "children should be seen and not heard" or "spare the rod and spoil the child" or any of those. For us, love, affection, honesty, and trust are building blocks (we hope) to a great person.

As we left Sesame Place yesterday I asked One Philly Daddy if he thought it was "worth it" since One Philly Son will not remember any of these early year efforts. He responded that of course it was, and that if it didn't matter then it wouldn't matter anything that happened the first three years of anyone's life. And the professional consensus seems to be that those years are crucial for developing the foundations for trust, communication, health, and even things like interest in reading and eating vegetables.

So we'll continue carting One Philly Son places that make him smile, excited and happy. We'll remind him slides are for going down, to share, take his turn, to not throw things and to be gentle with others. We'll read books and put veggies on his plate everyday.

The price of admission is well worth it.