Thursday, May 31, 2012

Little Boy Love

At month's end, the Reds' school year will draw to a close. Every morning, they ask, "How many days until summer?" as I urge them out the door into  mornings filled with sunshine and promise.

And every morning, Luke wonders the same thing: "Do you think Sam T. will be my buddy today?"

Sam T. is a five-year old amongst four-year-olds. He is Luke's friend...until he's not.

In September, I began hearing about Sam T - about his might and his will and how much fun it was to play with him at recess. For a long while, I believed that Sam T. was a figment of Luke's imagination, so awed was he by Sam T's ideas and schemes and the way in which he herded his Junior Kindergarten classmates.

Luke's first day of school, 2011, seeing his classroom for the first time.

But by November, Luke would sometimes tumble into my arms at day's end, sweaty and dirty in that way of boys and desperately sad that Sam T "wasn't my friend today, Mummy."

Seems that Sam T plays favourites and that on a whim, he'll pick another boy to play with, leaving Luke on the outside, looking in.

"Sam T was mean to me today, Mummy. He said that I couldn't play with him and A. because I'm not wearing an orange shirt."

"Today, Sam T said that I was his best friend in the whole world because I have McQueen shoes."

"I'm gonna wear my McQueen shoes today, Mummy because Sam T likes them and then he'll be my best friend in the whole world."

"Sam T didn't want to be my best friend today, Mummy and he hurt my feelings."

"I don't want to wear the blue hat, Mummy because Sam T says that it's only for babies."

No amount of reasoning has worked, all year long. Since the Fall, I have urged Luke to find a different boy to play with, to ignore Sam T's hurtful words, to tell a teacher when Sam T pushes him on the slide. But Luke has doggedly pursued this friendship for almost nine months now, giddy with happiness on the days when Sam T is his friend, despairing on the days when he's not.

"Buddy is better than friend, Mummy, " Luke reported to me just last week, as we wandered home hand-in-hand.

"Really? How is buddy better?"

"Sam T says that I'm his buddy and A is only his friend - buddy means I'm more special," Luke puffed out his chest, grinning.

"Luke, you're already special, bug. You're special because you're Matthew's brother and my son and Nanny's treasure. You know that, right?"

"I know that I'm special to you, Mummy. You already told me that. But yesterday, I wasn't special to Sam T because A was his buddy and I was only his friend. Today I was his buddy and so that makes me special to him."

"That's stupid, Luke, " Matthew interjected. Before I could reprimand him for using a naughty word, he rushed on, rounding fiercely on his little brother, "What about tomorrow, when Sam T chooses A as his buddy and not you? He's just mean to you and you should make different friends who think you're special every day."

Oh, you marvelous child. For every bickering moment between them, for every shove and "Mummy, he's bugging me!" wail, this is what it all comes down to - loyal, protective brother love.

Brotherly love.


This morning, as Luke carefully did up his McQueen shoes and I waited, not-so-patiently by the door, he wanted to know this:

"Mummy, can boys marry other boys?"

"Uh, yes. Yes they can."

"Can girls marry girls?"



"Why do boys love boys and girls love girls?"


"The same reasons some girls love boys and some boys love girls. Because God made them that way."

"I wish that God would make Sam T want to love me and be my buddy every day."

"I'll wish that God sends you a friend who loves you every day, regardless, Luke. That's what I wish for."

"Can you ask Him to send me one like Matthew, only one who's 4 and can play in the Kindergarten yard with me?"

"You bet."

Dear God,

Please send Luke a friend like Matthew, who's 4 and can play in the Kindergarten yard with him. Oh, and please send me a box of Kleenex and a bigger heart. The one I have is full to bursting.



  1. Oh gosh. Your boys are so incredibly sweet. <3

    1. Thanks, Mama -they certainly have their moments! I think that Matthew's words will have more influence over Luke than mine do...well, I hope so, anyways!

      Thanks for the comment love!

  2. Your posts KILL me!!! I need a box of kleenex! = )

    1. Imagine living here, with these two? When I don't want to strangle them, I want to eat them up (in a good way)

      So lovely to "see" you here!

  3. Poor little guy! 4 years ago we moved from Guelph to the Ottawa area and I had to pull Alec out of SK in a class with all his friends and put him in a new school with only 2 months of class remaining. He met his own Sam T. We live in a small town and the group of kids is pretty small. Alec came to me with the same heartbreaking comments for over a year. Finally he did find his special friend but more importantly he realized that his fickle friend was in fact his bully. To this day T.(the bully) tries to be Alecs friend when it suits and Alec responds with kindness and friendship. When I asked him about it he said; "Mom, I don't like him and I know he's my bully and not my friend but he must be pretty sad or angry about something to act the way he does. I'm not so sure he can help himself. You taught me to turn the other cheek...but if he hits me he's going down." I didn't know weather to laugh or cry. Luke will find his special friend and with it the confidence to understand Sam T.

    1. "If he hits me, he's goin' down." LOVE it! Words to live by, for sure!

      I think Luke'll be ok, in the end. But the meanwhile, I just wish he wouldn't hope so much, you know?

      I haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting Sam T....I am looking forward to the year-end celebration, let me tell you!

      Thanks for hanging with us at Life With Bellymonster, Jen!

  4. Naomi had a similar friend in kindergarten- It was heartbreaking - day after day- and yet now- a year since seeing that girl she understands what was happening and is able to explain it to her sister- i guess that they really do need to experience it to learn from it.

  5. You're so right, Big Sister (whom I owe a guest post, I've just realized - so sorry!) that kids must learn from experience. Or big siblings - am so grateful to Matthew for seeing the bigger picture and trying his best to help his li'l bro out!

    These two - I am so lucky to have 'em. And you, darlin', as a reader!

  6. Love reading about your little ones! I had to reach for the Kleenex on this one!

    1. My work - or rather the Reds' work here - is done, if you needed a Kleenex. That's kinda how it is around here some days, raising these two. Or them raising me...most days, I think it's both.

      Nice to "see" you here, Jenn! Thanks for the comment love!

  7. Lucky guys to have each other. Friends for life. (And ones that really really profoundly matter.) : )

    1. Hiya Pam!

      Having them two years apart is beginning to pay off - most days they're best friends (until they're not, then all Hell breaks loose! Gah!)and I feel lucky to hang in their sphere.

      Lovely to have you pop by, darlin'!

  8. I just can't believe how insightful Matthew is! Every time I read a post from you on here or Facebook I am shocked by how grown up they seem!!!! They are lucky to have each other, and you :)

  9. Isn't he just? I don't know where he gets it, really...and they're growing up so stinkin' fast, I know!! You'll hardly recognize them when you see them next....speaking of, when will that be? Miss you!

  10. I love this! I think as mother's we wish that we could just make their decisions for them, and try to save them from all of life's hurts.

  11. Well, thank you Middle-Aged Lady - God, I love that title! Ha!

    If only we could save them from life's hurts, eh? On the other hand, life wouldn't be nearly as interesting without them.

    Thanks so much for popping by and for commenting!