Thunder and Lightning

On Saturday T and I (Daddy B had duty of course) went to a Western Day celebration out in Imperial Beach.

First, we checked in. There was a mini-melt-down when Mommy A and her family were not on the list. The day before we had, by the way, VERIFIED her enrollment in this activity with the woman who runs the sign-ups. Next we went to the frame decorating activity. T made a frame and liked it; stickers are always popular with him. After that, we made our way to the necklace beading station.

This is when stuff got a tiny bit hairy.

T snatched the box of beads from the facilitator. I shoved the box away from T and told him to ask politely with his big boy manners. He stared at me and began to cry, WHINING about how he WANTED to make the necklace.

I grabbed his happy ass and pulled him over to a fence, sitting him down for a time out. I told him he was going to sit and figure out how he was going to be a polite young man, otherwise he would be spending the two remaining hours of the Western Day in the car while the other boys played and rode the horses.

"But I want to ride the-"

NO I said, VERY loudly and VERY forcefully. I do NOT care what YOU want, I growled, YOU WILL SIT HERE AND CALM DOWN THE ATTITUDE OR YOU WILL GO TO THE CAR!

T hunkered down with his head practically in his lap. I walked over to chat with RJ while he was making a necklace. A few minutes later, I checked on T. He was still being dramatic, so I left him another few minutes. I checked again, and once again he was being dramatic.

Finally I checked on him and he was perfectly placid. I reminded him that I would not tolerate any attitude or whining or complaining whatsoever, and if he wanted to enjoy the afternoon he had to use his manners and follow directions. I told him to sit in time out again, but this time get up when HE felt he was ready to come over and use his big boy voice to ask for supplies AND when he would use those skills for the rest of the afternoon as well.

A full 2 minutes later, T joined myself and RJ at the table and from that point on there wasn't an ounce of attitude.

Now. Eventually we made our way over to the horse riding. T put on a helmet (over a bandanna for hygiene purposes) and rode his first horse. Before he got on the horse however, I reminded him that the ride lasted the circumference of the corral and that, upon completion of said circumference-length ride, he would dismount the horse and exit the corral to either re-enter the line or engage in another activity. Crying, pouting or tantruming would NOT be tolerated.

So anyway, off he went, came back, got back in line, went again, and got back in line.

By the time T went around the third time, I informed him this was his last ride. Honestly, I was bored, and there were still the face painting and donkey petting sections to go to. T began his third ride and I became enraptured with the tack on a horse standing nearby. The trim on it was pink leather. I don't know how leather is dyed, but I imagine, by the sheer nature of leather, that it is a difficult and/or lengthy process.

All of a sudden, I notice Daddy R (who had been on a wagon ride) standing in said wagon, staring at the far end of the corral. I first thought that it was odd. I next thought that there must be something going on over there. I finally thought to myself "wait, where's T?"

While Daddy R was the tip-off, seeing T walking along the corral with his arms frozen in front of him was what finally snapped me into realization. Why was he not on the horse?!?! AND, I was completely powerless to do anything AT ALL. I was on the opposite side of the corral, and there were poles, cowpokes, and thousand pound animals with sharp hooves between me and my son.

While I can honestly say I did not move, I can also honestly say I considered jumping inside to my probably doom.

But just as quickly, one of the handlers picked T up, gave him a few pats on the back, and plopped him on a new horse. Thus ensued T's fourth ride around the corral.

*****TANGENT: Believe me. You will probably never know the absolute fear and frustration of your child getting potentially hurt and NO ONE EVEN THINKS TO LOOK YOUR WAY because you're "white" and your child is black. I tried SOOO hard to look concerned enough for them to "see" me and assure me that he was ok. And I saw them -SAW THEM- scanning the adults all around. It wasn't until he was delivered to my side of the corral that the gatekeeper finally made eye contact with me and assured me that he was uninjured. *****

As you can see, I did not see the fall. The following are first-hand accounts of the "incident" I was at first completely oblivious about (as a side note, I'd like to add that T was not at all hurt in any way... the rigid arms were probably a result of momentary shock):

From what I understand, the wagon was bouncing down the path next to the corral when T's horse Thunder walked by. Thunder, suddenly seeing this wagon (which he is not used to seeing), jumped up and around. T, being 5 years old and about as quick to react as a bowl of Jell-O, flew off. According to Mommy A, T fell gracefully through the air, struck the ground evenly-weighted, tucked, and rolled away from the frightened beast.

I checked: He didn't have a single bruise, scratch or dirt spot on him. Mommy A later told me that T was the Lightning that came off of Thunder.

Thank you God for small miracles.