Had I Been A Second Later....

It's spring break and I was getting ready to take the boys to the local Maple Syrup Festival. It's called spring break but the weather is still cool and the boys wanted one last shot at climbing the Mountain of Wonders, a snowhill in our backyard that got larger and larger over the winter as we shovelled pathways from our garage to our door. At one point so large, they felt it would never melt and their winter shananigans would play out in the heat of the summer. The Mountain of Wonders has been reduced to a small pile of dirty crunch snow that they can only stand on one at a time. But it's still wonderous, this mountain. Kept alive because they believed in it.

While I was scurrying about packing last minute items - camera, cell phone, drinks and snacks, they ran outside to play. I could hear yelling and screaming, but they're boys - they yell a lot. Sometimes it's hard to differentiate the screams. Everything packed, I opened the back door just in time to see Adam with a rock the size of a baseball in his hand turning, preparing to throw. He spotted me out of the corner of his eye and quickly dropped it. Momentarily slack-jawed, I managed to ask in a quiet voice "What were you doing with that rock Adam?"

"I was about to throw it," he replied.

Angry, so incredibly angry, I needed a moment. I closed the door, leaned my head against the wall and took in three long slow breaths. I re-opened the door and asked "Where were you going to throw it?" knowing full well the response I was going to get but completely unprepared for it.

"At Liam." he said quietly with no defiance in his face or voice. My quiet voice and door closing had shocked him. Normally I raise my voice and my quiet anger had spoken to him louder than any yelling I could have done - we were both in shock.

Trembling with anger, I spoke quietly "Do you understand what would have happened if you had thrown that rock at Liam, Adam? Do you understand how badly he could have been hurt? Do you understand that throwing a rock that size at your brother could have killed him? You are never ever to throw rocks. Ever. Do you understand?

He responded yes to each of my questions, contrite and quiet but as each of the questions came tumbling from my mouth, I could feel the anger welling up in the pit of my stomach because I didn't believe he understood. How could he? He's seven. How could he understand that this one moment of impulse could have changed all our lives.

So I told them I needed a few moments and closed the door again and sat down. Breathing deep, fighting back the tears. I was so angry and also so scared. What if I had stopped to answer the phone that had been ringing on my way out the door? What would have happened if I hadn't walked out at that moment?

Five minutes later, more composed, not quite calm but able to face the situation, I walked out the door. They were both still standing exactly where I had left them, quiet.

I did what I thought would convey to him the importance of what could have happened. I took away his most prized possession - his coin collection, the one he carries everywhere, talks about non-stop and covets more than anything - for a month.

One of the hardest things about being a parent is turning things around when they've gone to shit. If you're a parent, you know what I mean. I was still angry and panicked about what might have been yet here we were supposed to be going on a fun outing. How do you turn that around? How do you go from being so angry one moment that there is a rage in the pit of your stomach, from wanting to grab him by the shoulders and yell at him, to doing a complete 180 and having a fun outing?

I let it go, but not completely. It still niggled at me. We had a fun time with lots of laughter and silliness. I watched them hold hands and play together on a tractor and couldn't get the what if picture out of my head.

So when we got home, instead of going straight inside I told them I wanted to show each of them how serious throwing rocks can be. I walked over and picked up the rock that Adam held in his hand only hours before. It was the size of baseball and weighed about four pounds. I asked them each to come over and I lightly tapped it on my head and then on theirs, one at a time.

Ow! Adam said. That hurt.

I know Adam. And that's just a gentle light tap. Think about how much it would hurt if I had thrown it at you. Think of how much it would hurt if I threw it like this. And I threw it at the fence. Both boys stood wide-eyed, staring at the newly formed dent that had appeared.

I got down on my knees and brought them close. And that's why you never ever ever throw rocks.

Ever.

And we went inside and had lunch.