Page 4 of Back to Willow

“Come on. Let’s get you ready.” I tap his shoulder but don’t attempt to move either. “We have our first day of school today, and we can’t miss it.”

“Aren’t you old for my school?”

“I have explained it to you,” I answer him with a light chuckle. “Mummy’s not going to your school. Remember that I told you I paused everything when you were born? You were very little and needed a lot of care and attention…” It was difficult to accept I had to stop studying; the only bright side of it was taking care of him. Dylan quickly consumed my thoughts, leaving my studies on the back burner. When he nods, I continue. “Well, now you’re older and ready to go play with other kids, and I can finally finish my studies.”

“Then what kind of school is it?”

“It’s called college. A kind of grown-ups school.”

His eyebrows twist in confusion as his mouth forms an ‘o’. “Is it important?” I nod, giving him a patient smile. “Why?”

“Because Mummy wants to be a teacher, like the ones you’ll meet today. And for that, I need to study some more, so I can do what I love.”

I did it. It may be four years later than usual, but I still did it and am so proud of myself. I will be able to show my baby boy that even as a teenage mother, I didn’t give up on my dream; that his existence encouraged me even more to be a good example to follow.

“Will I need to go to college, too?”

“If you want to.” I smile gently.

“I don’t know…” He trails off.

“And that’s alright.” I chuckle. “You’re too young to decide now. Let’s focus on the school for your age and get ready, eh?”

“I don’t want to go,” he grumbles.

“Why?”

“I don’t know anyone at this school.” He tilts his head to peek one eye at me. It’s so freaking hard to stay mad at that adorable face. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

“Don’t be silly, baby. You’ve spent the last two weeks playing with the next-door girl, Abby. She’s your friend already and going to be in your class today.”

Dylan straightens and blushes slightly but keeps what should be a serious expression I find too cute to take seriously before answering me. “But she’s a girl. The boys will make fun of me for being friends with a girl.” He crosses his arms over his chest and huffs.

I just laugh.

“Nonsense, Dylan. What did I tell you about this kind of behaviour? Just because other kids like to be mean, it doesn’t mean you have to be the same as them to be accepted. Because...” I prolong the last word to let him finish for me.

“Because they are in the wrong. You don’t hurt or hit anyone, not even with a flower,” he continues in a monotone voice.

Ever since he started making friends, I’ve been trying to teach him not to do what others do or tell him to just because it’s cool, especially if it means treating girls poorly. I don’t want my son to be a bully, disrespectful, or even worse…

Changes are always hard for kids, and this one—moving—is his biggest yet. And while it was hard at first, children are resilient and adapt quickly. Once we got settled, he met Abby and got less and less resistant to his new reality.

“Exactly, and what do you do if other kids taunt or hurt you?” I ask.

“I defend myself.” He puffs his chest, and I stifle a laugh.

“How so?” I push him. I want to hear him say the correct words.

I want my boy to be good but not too good. I don’t want him to take shit from anyone.

“Well, if it’s with words, I just tell them off, but if they hit me, I hit them back.” He tries doing what could be a kung-fu move but ends up falling to the mattress on his back.

“No, Dylan. You defend yourself and only hit if you need to,” I press. “Got it?”

“But if I can’t show off the moves Uncle Jake taught me, why did I learn them?”

“To defend yourself and no more. Yes?”

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