My heart ached

for Brogan this evening. Jerry headed out to his parents this afternoon to work on my truck, so the kids and I decided to forgo (alright, it was more a me decision than a we) the Friday Pizza tradition. I took them over to Mc-Arteries-are-Hardening because they love playing there and I have a fantastic book I am reading. We were there for almost 3 1/2 hours, most of that was spent with the kids playing peacefully.
There was a point I looked over at Brogan, looking longingly at a group of four boys chatting and playing away together. As Brogan circled round and round the play log staring down the boys I saw his arms reach out time and time again almost in agitation. Then he'd quickly pull his arms back to his sides, eventually folding them over one another, almost like that would tamp down his desire to join in. Being the mom, I sooo wanted to go over there and introduce him to the group of boys and hope they accepted him and let him play with them. I realized before I made a move that doing this would not help Brogan. I had to let him make this move on his own, he has to learn how to initiate play in a non-aggressive way. My heart ached, tears came to my eyes. But I could not do this for him.
A few minutes later a grandmother of another boy approached me and asked if the boy in the striped blue shirt was my son. You know the tone. Or maybe you don't. It's the tone of a very disapproving adult regarding your child, the "Look what your child has done. Make them stop before I slap you." Since I had not seen Brogan do anything to this boy, I was a bit confused and confessed (haha, that sounds like I did something wrong) that he was indeed my child. She went on to tell me that Brogan kept tapping his head against her grandson's head while they were in the play structure. He wasn't actually hurting the other boy, just making him scared and agitated. So I discussed the "playing" do's and don'ts to Brogan (again) and set him free. Then apologized to the grandmother and moved away to see what the results would be. Miraculously, the two boys then paired up like peas in a pod. Running around together, rolling around on the ground, climbing all over the play structure. My son, playing with another child (Rhiannon doesn't count). It's miraculous.