In Which I am a Mad Genius

My nine-year old has an interesting relationship with pain. He is a rather super-sensory guy; he feels, hears, tastes and sees at superhero levels. I fondly call him Eagle Eyes, since the kid can spot freckles on a bluejay from 30 yards. Or lobster buoys in a choppy sea – stuff my aged and damaged peepers can’t possibly discern (instructions on medication bottles for instance): “Here, read this for mommy…”

His hearing, we figured out long ago, is super acute. It all started with realizing that he overhears everything in the house. Everything. Classroom focus is a struggle for him “I can’t concentrate with all those pencils scratching on the paper!”

And pain – he can NOT feel it, remarkably: ”Your five year old has had a double ear infection for at least a week. Your son has a very high tolerance for pain.” Or, if everything else is turned off, he feels it, remarkably.

Just your regular superhero struggles. Today, I went and visited during a rousing game of Musical Chairs. Once he was “out,” he ran over to me, and as the music stopped, his face crumpled.

“My arm is killing me!” he clutched his bicep to his chest and wailed. The recent construction at our campus has created a long walk to and from our car, and heavy lunch boxes and bags of swimming gear had resulted in sore muscles.

He tried to convince me his arm was falling off. I walked him to my office and we began a discussion of “No pain, no gain.” And why sore muscles are a good thing for young ninjas. Then I showed him a nice stretch and offered him a Tylenol to help get him through his karate lesson.

The first stretch was agony. “Do it again,” I instructed. “Does it hurt less this time?”

He looked at me in astonishment. “Yeah! How did you do that?”

A few more stretches. “It hardly hurts at all, now! Mom, you’re a GENIUS! A MAD genius! A mad MOM genius!”

He ran off to re-join the musical fun and I savored the brief moment of triumph. It’s not often that I can still solve their problems so adroitly. It will become more and more of a rarity that I can offer instant gratification to their wants and needs. But I’ll take this triumph and proudly wear my Mad Mom Genius title, at least for today.