We partnered up with our neighbors who have little people the same age as my kiddos (so fun!), and headed on a trip to the zoo. Max's little buddy brought with him a field journal (notebook) so he could make notes (random drawings) of the different zoo animals on their visit. Max was content with his copy of the zoo map to track the places we went that day.
On our walk through the tropics, we headed to the gibbon exhibit - a large tropical area for two gibbons, a ton of ducks and a bunch of flamingos. The space is large enough for a few ponds, tall "trees" and a whole bunch of rocks and live shrubs throughout the exhibit. The walkway is built about half the height of the trees, so you can easily look up or down.
Max and his buddy were checking out the gibbons as I'm showing Alexis the cute sleeping otters in another exhibit on the other side of the walkway. I am startled and sent into a panic when I hear my son screaming at the top of his lungs. The mom in me goes into the "protect her own" mode and I had immediate images that I'd be jumping into the exhibit to rescue him, or to assist with some other life-threatening need.
I turn around to see Max standing next to his buddy (immediate sigh of relief that neither one fell in), completely hysterical.
Between sobs, I learn that his buddy (not Max), had dropped the crayon into the exhibit. Between more sobs, I learn that Max is deeply concerned that he will now witness the death of an animal because they will eat the crayon. He is so concerned (and hysterical) that anything I say or do is pointless. My mind is immediately brought back to a couple summers ago when he experienced an extreme fear of wind. All things rational were thrown out the door as he'd panic that everything he held near and dear to him would be blown away, never to return.
Distraction. We tried it. Deep breaths. We tried it. Calming voice of reason. Tried it. All Max could tell me between sobs, was "find a zookeeper!" and then concern for how the zookeeper would enter the exhibit. "Can they get a ladder in time?" he screamed from the top of his lungs (thinking they'd need a ladder to enter the exhibit from the walkway we were at).
Knowing just ahead we would run into some volunteers at the diving demonstration, I convinced him we should walk over there, tell someone, and that a Zookeeper would know just what to do.
Still hysterical and sobbing, we manage to get him to the next place, where (thankfully), there were volunteers. We explain the crayon incident while Max is holding back his sobs, but red faced and worried, still trying to catch his breath.
Funny enough, the volunteers tell us that a Zookeeper is in the exact place at that very moment, searching for a pair of red sunglasses someone else had just dropped in. They said we could head back, and show the Zookeeper where we dropped it.
A boy on a mission, he walked/ran back there as fast as he could. We followed behind as best we could, though not quickly enough as I hear max yelling "where is the ladder?" "how will the zookeeper get back out?" Now panicked that the Zookeeper is stuck inside the exhibit as well. Good thing it was easy to show him the secret Zookeeper door.
I signaled to the Zookeeper (who had just found the sunglasses) to now check for the orange crayon.
At this point, my somewhat calm Max was going back into a state of panic as he could no longer see the crayon. Again, convinced that an animal had taken it, eaten it and was now on the brink of death. "Are they chewing it?" he cries. "I can't see their mouths!" (A true statement, since I should mention the gibbons had been in the top branches of the trees, swinging and sunbathing the entire time. The ducks and flamingos were also at opposite ends of the exhibit).
Again, I do my best to convince Max that the Zookeeper is doing her best and the crayon had not been eaten. "You're not a zookeeper!" was his only reply. True, Max. Although sometimes I think the role we take as "mom" is very similar to "zookeeper" but that's a whole different post.
The Zookeeper lifts up rocks, peeks between shrubs, and has no luck locating the crayon. "Probably stuck between one of these bigger rocks." she says. Probably. Although it's my personal opinion that one of the ducks snagged it and stowed it away for coloring time with a flamingo friend.
Max, calming his sobs only to listen to the Zookeeper explain how the animals see foreign objects all the time and are trained to avoid putting them into their mouths. She explains how even though they don't see the crayon right now, they will find it, and assures him the animals are safe.
Deep breaths. Starting to work. Calming reassurance. Again starting to work. Diversion to the sharks. Definitely works. He runs off with his buddy, still red faced, but convinced that death will not come from the crayon. I decide this is not a good time to remind him that he has eaten crayon and is also still alive, as he might rebound back into panic.
And, while part of me wonders what all of the moms were thinking during the fiasco, the bigger part of me is grateful for the experience this little guy gave me. He was so quick to show his honest soul (not hiding from us the crayon had been dropped) and his deep empathy and concern for others (in this case the animals). I think as adults we have so much to learn from little people. Their hearts and emotions are so open and pure, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity I have to be their mom. It's a pretty sweet gig.
Note: All pics below were taken prior to the above experience, which forced the camera into the bottom of the stroller.
Max and his buddy love this exhibit - the komodo dragon!
Here's what the gibbon was doing (definitely on the verge of eating the crayon!)
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