A few days ago, I watched Sam watch the progression of a really fat ant crawling around by our car. He watched for a long time then stomped down really hard on it, looked at me, and said “Oops. I died that ant, Mom. Sorry. It was an accident.”
It was an accident. Sam says that a lot. Probably because I have yet to properly translate the difference between premeditated ant murder and stepping on an ant he didn’t see. That’s some complex shit to put into mommy-speak.
After attempting (and failing, I think) to explain the difference between accident and purpose, I decided that now would be a good time to discuss death. I think I’ve made it clear in previous entries that I am not into the whole boys will be boys stuff, nor am I into the whole girls are created for sexual enjoyment. But I also am aware that my desire to be gender neutral (oh my gosh, I’m such a douchebag sometimes) can err on the side of compulsive. And in retrospect, I wish I hadn’t gotten all “Oh my GOD! Why is my son being so violent to God’s creatures? Where is he learning such violence? This aggression will not stand, man!” and been all “Let’s go in and have a snack, dude.” instead.
But, since I like to live in a state of over explanation and compulsion, we sat down next to the dead ant and watched it. (Don’t worry. I’m going to put $20 in Sam’s future therapy fund right now.) We waited for it to move. He asked what his friends were doing (the other ants kept coming up to the the dead one and poking around it) and we just sort of observed the ant’s complete deadness.
After some time, he asked when the ant was going to get up. And I tried to explain that he wasn’t, tried to articulate what dead means. And if you think accident/purpose is complicated in mommy-speak, try fucking dead. I explained that the ant doesn’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t breathe or walk around or talk to his friends. He’s all gone. And Sam seemed horrified by that. And then I was like, why am I such a douchebag?
So I quickly segued into “In the future, let’s remember that when we come outside, we are in the ants’ house. They don’t come in our home and bother us (lie), and they don’t even bother us when we come out into their home (lie), so let’s be careful to leave them alone and not TRY to kill them. They’re so small, sometimes it might happen on accident, but…” Etc.
And Sam was all “What about red ants? They bother us outside, right mom? Is it ok to die them?”
And I was all, “GOD! Stop being so smart. Come inside and have a snack. I’m sorry we ever got into this at all.”
So today, like four days after the apalling ant summit, I came out of the bedroom after lying Henry down for a nap to find Sam lying on the couch, tearful. He said “I’m so so sorry I died that ant, Mom. I’m so so sorry. His friends are putting him back together now, right?”
Oh my Sam. My heart hurts with love for you sometimes, kid.
So, the dead ant summit continues, and all I can say is, I am ill-equipped.
The first time I saw Emma do that, I asked her how she would feel if a TRex came into our house and just stomped on her and squished her because he could. And she was like, “But Dinosaurs are DEAD” and I was like, “I give up.” It’s a hard subject, for sure.
Death is the hardest thing to explain to kids. I think you did a good job, even though it might not feel like it now.
you are real. i know no better gift to share with a person than that.
btw shree (my five year old daughter) asked about her birth. i told her the truth, you know how i puked a lot and cried a lot and it hurt so bad and i’d never trade it for anything. ever since she’s convinced she’s going to start a business where you can buy babies at the store. she’s not into pain. a well.
Oh man. I don’t even know what to say. His remorse is heartbreaking.
It’s so difficult to decide what’s a “teachable moment” and what we should just not react to as parents. I don’t know. My girl drew a picture the other day and I couldn’t figure out what it was; it had a person in it, and a building, and what looked like fire, and when I asked her what she’d drawn, she said, “This guy just threw a bomb at a gas station and it exploded.” In my head I was all, HOLY SH!T, WHERE DID SHE LEARN THAT?? But I didn’t react that way, I just made a face and said, “Well, why did he do that?” and she looked at me like I was dumb and said, “I dunno!” Like, why are you asking me, it’s just a picture, Mom.
I try to think back to my own childhood, the thoughtless things I did and the fake-violent games I played and just the overall weirdness that comes with being a kid, and I think there are just so many complicated life subjects that kids don’t have the emotional capacity to fully understand. One time, I ran over a baby toad with my tricycle just to see what its insides looked like. I thought nothing of it at the time, and then years later, when I really understood that I had actually killed another living thing for no reason other than my own weird curiosity, I felt absolutely terrible. I don’t think you did anything wrong holding the Ant Summit–Sam would have made this realization on his own at some point anyway.
Wow, for someone who didn’t know what to say, I sure talked a lot just now.
My daughter also drew a picture of her great-great grandmother. Dead. Underground, in a casket, with a headstone and flowers and everything. Great-great grandma was a skeleton with big eye holes, teeth, spine and ribs and even a pelvic bone. That was totally another HOLY SH!T moment where I just kind of said, “Wow, that’s…interesting.”
ANYWAY. Ok bai.
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