I want one

So Friday afternoon I met up with Kyson to take him down to Green River, where we met up with Sara, Liz, Kaden, and Sadie. We all carpooled from there to Colordado for a wonderful trip of apple cider making, animal rumping, kid wrangling, and face stuffing. This isn't about the trip though; this is about my fear of the drive with Kason. An 8 year old boy. What in the world was I to do with him? What would he want to do? What was he interested in? How could I entertain him? Where should he sit? And could I listen to music? What kind of music? I was going bonkers.

So after some helpful advice from Lizi about putting Kyson in the back seat, and after a trip to the grocery store to pick up the only form of entertainment I know of that works for all ages-food-I felt a little more prepared. I can handle this. I can do this. I'm 27 years old for petes sake. You know? I was feeling confident, and once I met him and his dad, saw the computer his dad was giving him to keep him occupied, I knew we'd survive.

And then. We headed out on the road, Kyson in the back, me driving so carefully, and I thought of my dad driving me down to the MTC. He said he felt so worried, like he had to be super careful because I was precious cargo (I'm sure I always am to him, just sayin') and he thought I needed extra protection of some sort. That's how I felt with Kyson. Like everything mattered and I needed to be so careful. And I felt this concern for him. It was weird. And I didn't even really talk to him, cause he had his computer and I really don't know how to be around kids, or what to say. But I was there, and he was there.

And then. I heard his little hands get into the bag of food I'd put on the back seat. Something odd happened, some weird joy deep in my heart filled me as I heard his little crunch of the dorito. I have never in my life enjoyed sharing food so much. I usually love food. I get a little protective of my food. But this was different. This was for him, and it just swelled inside me to hear him eating it.

This sounds creepy, and all I can say is that biology is to blame here, and though I don't know what to do with kids, I want them. I want to care for a little person who depends on me, I want to experience that complete selfless giving. I want it all the more because it seems so far away and unlikely. But it was delightful to be around these little people for the weekend, to see their personalities and hear their perspectives. Maybe I just need more contact with kids.