Are You the Gardener or the Flower?

The leader or the follower?

One of the things Jonathan and I have struggled with most since our boy entered real school is not academic, but social. It is the struggle to teach him to be his own person, to be an individual, to not just follow to fit in, to hold his own against those he does not like or does not want to be like, to look inwards for approval, not outwards.

OK, it is a tough lesson, one that some people never learn.

But he has made great progress.

Still, he is enamored of one boy in his class. And the boy is a charming boy, a wild boy, a smart boy, a beautiful boy. He is a baby Clinton, in the body of a second generation Iranian immigrant. The boys worship him, the girls love him, the teachers are delighted by him. I fall under his spell. Theo is simitten. Sometimes this boy hurts Theo's feelings, and Theo steps away. Sometimes Theo follows this boy, and gets in trouble--again.

Sometimes he loves him, sometimes he hates him.

Jonathan said the other day on the way to school he was telling Theo, "You are a leader. People follow you. You need to remember that." Theo said, "Yes, that is true. And Omeed is my leader."

Today when he got in the car he said he had a wonderful day. The plants had sprouted and he had played with Omeed. I asked him what he had played.

"We played that he was the master and I was the slave robot," he said. "Oh," I said, trying not to be worried and project lifelong predictions and fears onto his first grade recess game. "Well, maybe sometimes you can be the master and Omeed can be the slave robot."

"No, Mommy, I like being his slave robot. I am better at being a robot."

What is a mama to say?