Spring Program 2013

This originally appeared on my old blog. This was written in the spring of 2013. Enjoy as I write my thoughts on this years program.

So, it was cute. It was fun…for other people. I was soooo stressed out; I couldn’t enjoy it. Really, I AM proud. They sprung a last minute change on the boy (uh, NOT a good idea!) and he made it through. With much moving about, nose picking, (good thing the program was titled squirm!) he made it through. He squirmed, for sure. From compromised spot to three (no wait he’s still moving around…four) spots on the chorus risers. He made it without a meltdown. Me. Not so much.

Things like this spring program and eating lunch with him today at school are what make this mama painfully aware of the eldest’s differences. They aren’t bad. They are just differences. It might be hard to watch for this mama, but I know that there were two hundred other kids up there whose moms, dads and grandparents were there with eyes only for them. No one noticed or was bothered. Except me. It’s not that I was bothered. It’s that I was sad. He was exited about the program. He knows ALL the words. He knew the speaking parts as well. For thirty minutes, I wished for him to be NT; not because he was failing…he wasn’t. He was struggling at something that was supposed to be fun and easy. Something he’d worked on since Christmas. It’s hard to watch your kid struggle. Some kids struggle with math, science or reading. J is lucky. Those things are easy for him. But it’s still hard to see him struggle. I don’t like it. But, you know, he will be ready for whatever life throws at him later on because it hasn’t all been easy now.

Next time, I vow to relax. I might sneak in 12 oz of relaxation therapy PRIOR to the show rather than as a post script. I vow to laugh only, cry none (unless it’s tears of joy) and enjoy the moment so that j might learn to also.


Let me add a PS here. After re-reading I’m afraid you’ll think I don’t embrace big brudder as is. I do! I love, appreciate and admire him more than anyone else in this world. He teaches me things both concrete and in matters of the heart and soul daily . He is my first born. He is my breath and the light in my eyes. Perhaps, that’s why it’s hard to see him struggle. It’s not that I’m afraid he can’t do it. I KNOW he can! It means, as a mama bear piloting a helicopter, I forget to relax, land the copter and enjoy the show.

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