Small Stories

When I first started this blaaahg, BigBoy was three and a half.
He was sweet and affectionate.  Strong-willed and whiny at times, yes, but he had the biggest heart in the tiniest body.

Now, four year later at seven and a half, he's pretty much the same... well, he talks a LOT more!

Let me document a little "2nd Grade BigBoy" for posterity:

It's a small story, but it had a big impact. (On me, anyway...)

Yesterday I decided to try something different than the usual "How was your day?" after I picked him up from school.  Instead I asked some cheesy questions like "Was there anything that was confusing today?", "Did you do anything that made you proud?", and the like.
He said "Brayden did something that made me really proud!  He won at a Math game."
He proceeded to tell me that the rest of the class cheered for his final competitor, Austin, and he was the only classmate to cheer for Brayden.
I said, "You were the only one that thought Brayden would win?" He replied, "Oh no, Austin is the smartest kid in class; I thought Austin would win.  I cheered for Brayden because he needed someone to cheer for him."
He said it was "amazing" when Brayden won, and everyone was really surprised.  (Then I used the opportunity to explain to BigBoy what an "underdog" is.)

This anecdote was BigBoy's proudest and most memorable part of his day.  He recounted it with joy and pride in his friend/classmate.
Never did he complain about not winning (and it wasn't until today -- a day later -- that he casually mentioned that he also made it pretty far in the game, and that was only upon my reopening of the subject).
Never did he speak of the runner-up or his supporters in a taunting or derisive manner.

On a fairly regular basis, I tell my son that I am proud of him.  Not because he follows my rules or the school rules, and not because he is sweet and affectionate.  I tell him I am proud of the person he is in this world.

Sometimes it's the smallest people who have the biggest impact.