I learned two things today: there’s a spider that lives in South America that’s big enough to eat birds and my 4-year-old son is far smarter and braver than I will ever be.
As I was pulling the laundry out of the dryer earlier today, I started thinking about something he said this morning. He awoke at his usual time—6:30 a.m.—and barreled into our bedroom babbling about a spider and Goliath. I know, right? This, first thing on a Monday. I heard the word “Goliath” and all I could think of was David & Goliath and wonder why the heck my son was talking about them. Don’t laugh! My brain had yet to rouse from its slumber and already my son is dishing out a science lesson.
When he finally slowed down and spoke clearly, my husband was able to decipher what he was trying to say: “that the Goliath bird-eating spider is soooooo big it can eat birds and mice and other creatures.” I kid you not; those were the exact words that came out of his mouth literally the second he woke up. I looked at my husband quizzically because I had never heard of such a thing, but then again, I don’t like spiders and have no desire to see them! And the funny thing is, my son doesn’t like them either—or so I thought!
Turns out he’s been watching and learning about these bird-eating arachnids on the iPad and when I expressed surprise that he had sought out these videos even though he’s terrified of spiders, my husband replied “well, he watches things that interest him.” Just to set the stage here, my kiddo has been waking up in the middle of the night for a while now, many times over his fear of spiders. I’m not sure when it started but some weeks ago, we were reading a book about Spider-Man and it tells the story of how a radioactive spider bites Peter Parker and turns him into Spidey. My son’s first question: “Mom, is a radioactive spider gonna come into my room and bite me and turn me into Spider-Man, too?” And another time he spotted a “daddy leg longs” (his words) in our kitchen and totally freaked out. So, he clearly thinks about these things often because he regularly mentions them at bedtime and during his middle-of-the-night wakings. Even as recently as two nights ago my husband had to reassure him that no spiders were crawling around his room or coming into his bed to bite him.
And yet despite his very real fears, he’s choosing to watch these huge scary beasties eat birds, mice, and other small creatures. I find that extraordinarily wise and brave. He has no idea what he’s doing, of course, but I do: He is courageously facing and trying to conquer his fears! And he’s only 4!
If only I could be that strong.
I sit here every day and blog about my anxieties and insecurities, admitting how they have such a debilitating hold on my mind and how I’m essentially powerless and too weak to do anything about them. What a joke! That’s what happens with us grownups. We’re so jaded and pessimistic and cynical from everything life throws at us that we become almost incapable of escaping our own worst enemy: ourselves. We’d rather wallow and throw a pity party and pretend our fears and weaknesses aren’t completely within our control. Or worse, that they’re someone else’s fault or problem. I am guilty of this far more often than I’d care to admit. What’s even more sad and disheartening is that it took a child’s burning desire for knowledge about something that terrifies but also intrigues him to make me realize it.
(OK, full disclosure, I’ve realized this before—many times in fact—but it’s so easy to slip back into our old ways and thought patterns and sometimes we just need a little push to get us back into that zone of self-reflection. This is one of those times.)
And there it is again, a child’s innate ability to teach us—his humble parents—about the ways of the world. It quite honestly never ceases to amaze me. I think that’s one of the more surprising blessings of having kids, at least to me. I’m so often focused on being the adult and doing all of the “teaching” that I lose sight of the gazillion ways my children are teaching me to become a better human. And I so desperately want to be a better version of myself. Someone who is willing and able to do whatever it takes to face her fears, conquer them, and be a harbinger of good in the world. To pass the positivity and the happiness and the kindness and the compassion forward, especially in dark times such as these. That’s the force I want to be. That’s the force I want my children to be. And I thank God every day for putting us on this path together so we may learn and grow—side by side and hand in hand—and hopefully make this world a better place for years and years to come.
Not a bad self-reflection for a Monday, huh? And to think it all started over a little boy’s story about a spider named Goliath.