Another unloading

 

"Age does not guarantee wisdom.

Education does not guarantee intelligence."

 

 

It's that time of year again. The monsters move into hibernation for a month. A whole month being parted from my beloved monsters. They no longer hate me as vehemently as they did a year ago; in fact, they are very much undeniably sweet. Mama loves all of you equally. Some more equally than others, but equally nonetheless.

We don't get to choose who we imprint on. Part of why we just suddenly find ourselves falling for people we know aren't the ones we technically seek is because of this unrecognizable human nature of imprinting. I saw how this kid imprinted onto his driver. I'd known the kid for months and he was just "there". Talkative, sure, but he was just "there". Until the new driver came in. One day, when I was walking him up to the van, his face just suddenly lit up and I saw that he was looking at the driver. He looked up at me and told me that later in the van he was going to tell the driver about his bread. On another day he practiced roaring like a lion with me because he was going to roar with his uncle in the van. The driver understood that the kid had taken favor onto him, and he entertained the excited boy each time. They connected. They didn't choose to, and didn't have to think much of it, they just connected.

It's not the first instance I've seen of kids suddenly transforming once they get to know a certain other person; but this particular one amazed me on a different level. First of all, the driver was new, hardly spoke any English, and has not much prior experience with children. The kid speaks only English (kiddish words and sentence structure, but still, English) and has met several other adults who are more likely to have gained his liking. However, it was this particular person who the kid chose. It was his "favorite driver", and according to the kid, the fella is awesome.

I'm lucky enough to have had a few of my own. And thinking about it, I could never choose who I wanted. The connection was either there, or it wasn't. The trick is, to recognize when it's there, and to build up on it. I always tell my monsters that I love them not in spite of them being monsters, but rather I love them because of it. I love that they show me how they hate the world, because it means they aren't afraid of being their true selves with me. I love that they are grumpy, because it means they trust me enough to know what they need of me, and that I'm here for them in their ugly grumpiness. I love that they criticize me mercilessly, because it means that they know I am willing to admit I am mistaken whenever I am; and that they welcome me to be mistaken. I do not look for perfection in them, and they return to me this great favor. I do not have to be any vision of perfection, I do not have to match some elusive expectation, and I do not have to put up a strong front. All I have to be is what I am. What I truly am. And they grace me with the privilege of knowing who they truly are.