Old souls

Some people believe an old soul is someone who has lived much in past lives and brings that experience with them into the current one.  It is said that if you are the parent to an old soul, you have been blessed beyond measure. 

My son is an old soul.

Kip, now 4 years old, is my oldest child.  Keep in mind, that I accept there are things in this universe that we will never understand, things that cannot be explained, but I do not believe in reincarnation, per se.  In “old soul” I mean wise beyond his years and very sensitive to things others are not. 

From the beginning, Kip was an 80 year-old man in a baby’s body.  The day we brought him home from the hospital, he looked worried about God’s decision to place him with such seemingly inept parents.  My husband was not even sure how to hold a baby much less feed or change one, and this one was not an easy baby.  He had colic, reflux, eczema, allergies.  He was taken to the nursery moments after he was born because he would not cry, only grunt.  Turns out, he just liked to grunt.  The crying came later, from both of us.  We had to see a pediatric pulmonologist when he was 18 months old because his lips would turn blue when he cried.  He just liked holding his breath.  He did not believe in sleep.  Night terrors started at 1 year, highly unusual.  They usually wait until pre-school years to show up. Yay, us.  We did not sleep for 2 years. 

To say the earliest years were trying would be an extreme understatement, but eventually, we made it through those first couple years alive and in between the crying jags and sleepless nights, a wonderfully bright and loving child emerged.  My Grandfather died when Kip was 9 months old.  That was my first indication that Kip was older than he appeared.  By all rights he should have no recollection of Papa, he was too young, but for a year after he died, Kip would stand in front of the chair where Papa sat and study it for several minutes at a time.  I think he just felt something was missing, and it was. 

When Kip started talking, we really started noticing his take on the world.  Now he’s four and brighter by the day.  I cannot count the number if times he has popped out some random statement about some minor detail he noticed or events he was not even present for.  So that’s how this blog was born, to help record the events in my son’s life and his unique perception of things and as a present to myself.  I’ve always been told I should write a book, and what better to write about that what you know best.

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