Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Oh, BEE-Have!

My 8 year old son recently developed a rather strong fear of bees. This has been very disconcerting because I haven't been able to get him to go outside. I read numerous articles on the internet, discarded all of those theories (naturally) and tried my own and STILL nothing has worked.

When he sees a bee he is gripped with fear and immediately panics. He will run into the house screaming with terror. There is no calming him, no rationalizing with him. He has never even been stung. One day he was a child who happily played outside and the next he was not. It is incredibly stressful.

I love my children and I will do anything for them. Even sign up for races because one of them loves to run and needs an adult to run in races with him. (And I HATE to run.) And when he wants to train for those races, I will time him as he runs around the track. Even when it's raining. Like for example, yesterday.

We arrive at the track. When he gets out of the car, he screams that he saw a beehive with a bee INSIDE the car. I completely disregard his claims and tell him to hurry up and get on the track because it's going to rain. He starts his laps, I start my walking/timing/coaching, etc. It soon begins to sprinkle and he's on lap 6 (he likes to do 8) and I warn him that he either needs to pick up the pace or quit early. By lap 7 it is completely pouring. Mid-way through lap 8 (and at the opposite end of where I'm standing) he slows down to a walk. I am not prone to screaming across large open spaces at my children but this was one of those times where you shed what you deem appropriate in order to get out of a situation as quickly as possible. He FINALLY finished his 8th lap and we went running for the car.

The car. The haven of warmth and security. It is the vessel that will take us home to a hot bath and dinner. But the child stops and REFUSES to get into the car declaring that there is a beehive with a bee inside the car. At this point in my day, I am hungry, soaking wet, tired, cranky and in no mood to deal with what I have determined as an irrational fear. I open the door and demand that he get into the car. He refuses. I actually grab him by the arm and start to physically put him into the car. This is not my personality but as stated above, I was cold, wet and hungry and I wanted to go home. He's crying, I'm crying... and there it is... a beehive with a bee INSIDE my car.

I let go of his arm. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you!" utters the mom who now feels like the lowest form of species on the planet.

So there I was. In the junior high parking lot in the pouring rain with a frightened child and I felt like I embodied every adult character ever written by Roald Dahl. I had to think quickly. There was a blue pen in the side door pocket. I grabbed it, knocked the beehive (with the bee) out of the car onto the ground and then stomped on that poor bee as hard as I could. And then once again for good measure.

We got into the car. We drove home. Took hot baths/showers. Ate dinner. Played. Went to bed. Later that night my precious son came into my bedroom and crawled into my bed. I put my arms around him and promised him that I'd never doubt him again. I also told him that I couldn't promise him that he'd never get stung because even if he tries to hide in the house for the rest of his life, there might still be a bee we just don't see coming. And it DOES hurt to get stung. But the pain is only temporary.

If I could take every single one of his fears and stomp on them, I would. I wouldn't even care what shoes I was wearing when I did it. But I know that I can't. And I know that he will get "stung" in life and it will probably hurt me more than it does him. But I also know that I will never, ever again tell him to just behave and do what I say and not listen to him or recognize the look on his face.

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