Six Years Old And Preparing To Soar

For the last couple of weeks or so, whenever I have had the privilege of walking my children to school in the morning, I have also had the privilege of having to stand idly by while Michael and Nicholas, curious as they are, walked over to my son's little kindergarten playground to see the bird's nest. Apparently, a rather "fat" pigeon was perched in said nest protecting her eggs.

Yesterday the eggs and the "fat" pigeon were no longer there. I'm not really sure what happened to them, and it really made the boys quite sad.

Yesterday also happened to be my son's 6th birthday. He'd been telling me for months that one of the things he wanted most was to be taken to Disneyland by me on his birthday; we never had before. So, not having to ask me twice about going to Disneyland, I dropped off the other boys with their mom and drove the 40 minutes to Anaheim for his birthday celebration.

I really can't explain why we did what we did next. Typically, California Adventure is the place the kiddies love to play because many of the attractions there are geared towards the smaller kids. Some of their favorites are there. But for whatever reasons (neither he nor I had ever expressed an interest in riding this one; at least, not together), the first attraction (at Disney, they're attractions, not rides!) we partook in was 'Soarin' Over California' (basically a flight simulation where you fly, or "soar" if you like, over some of California's most beautiful scenery -- it really is an amazing attraction; it comes highly recommended!).

However, I was a little bit worried about him. I knew that if he ever got on the attraction, he would love it, but in the meantime, there was plenty of line and time ahead of us for him to get himself worked up in. Sure enough, within minutes I looked down at my little man and saw his eyes drop to the floor. I asked him what was wrong, and with little tears trickling from his eyes, and little lips quivering, I could barely hear him as he mumbled to me, "Daddy, I'm scared." And while a part of me felt the almost overwhelming desire to take him out straightaway, instead I knelt down beside him and held him close to me and told him he'd be okay, and that I'd always be there to take care of him. I told him there was nothing to be afraid of.

For the next half hour or so, we meandered through the lines, me pointing out all the pilots' pictures on the wall, and all of the pictures of the planes. I was trying anything to keep him mellow. The entire time, though, I was wrestling with myself. It was only a ride (not an attraction at this point in the game, but a ride!). Was I doing the right thing? Was it worth frightening him?

At one point, he made a last ditch effort to get out of line using the "bathroom" excuse, but again I reassured him instead of letting him get out of line (thank God he didn't really have to pee!). Before you knew it, we were listening to Mr. Patrick Warburton (love that guy!) give us our last minute pre-flight instructions, I was buckling him into his seat, and we were off.

Aside from the running monologue I kept giving him on the flight (to encourage him) it was a quiet flight. I kept glancing over at him to see his reactions, but for the most part, I just listened to what his hand was saying. It never left his daddy's the entire time. On the parts where we glided, he relaxed. On the parts where we flew fast, he squeezed and held me tight. And in the end, when we left our seats and I asked him what he thought of it, my son soared.

And I couldn't help but think of the "fat" pigeon and her little eggs, and how if they had been left to their devices they would have eventually become little birds in their own right, at first scared, but then later ready to take flight. And I can't help but think that my little boy is growing up. He's in the pre-flight himself, and one day soon he'll be ready to soar completely on his own. He won't need my hand to hold and squeeze anymore.

But until that day comes, Daddy will be right there to hold that hand anytime he wants, and we can soar together.