Leo's Lesson for Mama: Be Nice to Spiders

Well, we’ve moved across the golden gate and it has been a tornado of a month. I am not going to go into all of it, needless to say this has been one of the most stressful periods of my life, I just want to spend my precious free time thinking and writing about my precious little guy. He is growing and changing at an exponential rate lately, and the perpetual tug of war with future planning and being in the moment has never been more bittersweet.

Our new apartment has spiders. Lots of them. I try to keep karma on my side and catch and release them to the wild, but sometimes I just can’t help squashing the little buggers; especially when they surprise me. I rationalize it. They deserve it, I tell myself, for frightening me and being uninvited guests. I don’t usually feel too bad about the squashing, just a moment of remorse and a glimmer of fear that I am chipping away at whatever good luck I’ve acquired over the years. But today I got a real tongue lashing from our little entomologist in residence. Wasn’t this the kid that just last week was explaining to me, as he crunched a snail with his shoe, that he was only smashing the snails as a favor to his grandpa. “Grandpa told me to! The snails are destroying his flowers!” You could tell that he was enjoying the crunch.

“Mama No!” he cries, as I squash the creepy crawler speeding across his bedroom wall.

“Spiders are good! They eat flies, and they don’t eat people, they only bite them!” He explains to me through sobs. He was definitely sad, but his indignation was what was so startling; the look on his face. He was disgusted by my weakness, my unjustness.

I felt so ashamed and so proud at the same time. I mean, it’s not as if the spider is eating our flowers. It’s a house spider, not a disease carrying mosquito or deer tick. What am I, a wuss? My arachnophobia is not extreme enough to justify this action. It was just plain lazy.

“You’re right Leo; I shouldn’t have squashed that spider. Next time I will put it outside and not kill it.” I hug him as I apologize.

“You have to be brave Mama!” He keeps me at arms length, and looks me in the eye. “You have to be brave! Spiders are good. Don’t squash them.” He hugs me, but it is not his typical hug. It is conditional. The same kind of hug I would give him after a time-out. The righteousness in him, his disappointment in me, this is new. And I am startled by how it feels; how grown up he feels and how adept he has become in using his words. I am witnessing the spiritual development of my child, the compassion filling and breaking his almost four year old heart, and am reminded of one of my favorite quotes from the writer Salman Rushdie…

“The weakness of grown-ups (even good ones) forces children to take control of their own destinies, and so, ironically, grow up themselves”.

Leo is growing up, and in the process he is teaching me what life is all about. Roles are reversed and I am sitting in his shade and taking it in. I know that there will be times when his lessons will be harder to take, but right now I am in this moment with him.

“I’m sorry Leo.” I hug and kiss my little guy. He is more open to my embrace. He believes me. “I’ll try to be brave next time”.