Isaac was 5 on Wednesday.  I can’t believe it.
We had his birthday party with friends and family on Sunday.  There were water games and Transformer
cupcakes to celebrate the occasion.
Then his friend, Marshall, spent the night for the first official
sleepover for both of them.  On the
night of his actual birthday, we went out on the boat for a picnic and swimming.   He is officially entering big boy status.

During those long months of screaming fits and hysteria, it
seemed like the time might never come when Isaac would be having friends over
to spend the night and would be swimming in a lake, but it has come, and with
it, I find that I’m a little bit sad that my baby is growing up.  But in becoming a big boy, he is also
more articulate than ever, and what he says makes all that sadness
disappear. 

Two days ago, we were playing store, one of his favorite
games.  Basically, I get to buy
things in his room and he rings up my purchases on his Fisher Price cash
register and then says, “Thank you for shopping at K-Mart.”  After several different purchases had
been made, I was beginning to feel bored.
I decided to add an element of excitement by saying, “This is a
hold-up.  Give me all your
money.”  He did.

When I said, “OK, now call the police,” Isaac said no.  I told him that he couldn’t just let me
get away with it, that I had to be caught and put in jail because stealing was wrong.  Isaac ran away laughing and then came
back with more stuff and gave it to me.
Again, I tried to persuade him that I had stolen from him and that he
shouldn’t let me do it.

“No, I don’t want to call the police,” he said, his smile
vanishing.  Then his lip started to
tremble and I could see that little flame of temper beginning to rise.  “There are no rules in my store,” he
nearly shouted.  “If you want
something, you can have it for free.
Nobody goes to jail just because they need something.”  Then he began to cry.  I took him in my arms and rocked him
and told him it was just a game and I was sorry I had made him sad.  After he calmed down, he explained that
it wasn’t fair if he had all those things and didn’t share with someone who
needed them. 

My cynical side could have explained to him how sometimes
people rob others just for the fun of it or to get drug money and that those
people are deadbeat criminals who should go to jail, but the mommy side of me,
the better side, just said, “You’re right.  We should share what we have with those who need it.”  I told him he might make a good
missionary or social worker someday.
He wanted to know what a missionary was, and when I told him, he said,
“Yeah, I’d be good at that.” 

Everyday, these children take little pieces of my heart and
crush them like rose petals in their hands, and everyday, my heart grows back a
little bigger.  I’ve never been so
willing to let someone take something from me in my life.

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