Friday, December 21, 2012

Everything is beautiful at the ballet

    Just about anyone that knows we exist knows our second son is in the Nutcracker with the Kansas City Ballet at Kauffman.  My mommy heart has just about burst with love and pride in our son, and how he's grown through this experience.   Yet, while part of me today is going, "Yay!  Only three shows left!"  part of me is also deeply saddened that this magical experience is almost over for my child.
     Here in this little space I need first to thank the Company.  The unconditional acceptance of who he is, along with the attention they paid to him, is a great deal of what made this experience magical for my son. This statement especially applies to those men who have been fathers to my son in family three.  Not a day of rehearsal with the company went by where those men weren't what put the shine in my son's eyes as he bounded out to the car from rehearsal.
"Mom, today he picked me up!"
"Mom, today he just put a hand on my shoulder."
"Mom, I think they like my jokes."
   Another piece of what made this magical was seeing my son "fitting in" with other children.  Anyone who has a child who marches to their own drum will understand what I mean by this statement.  It has been a joy to be in line, waiting to pick him up, and see him sitting on the wall with his 3DS, sharing it with his "sister".  It has been a joy to hear about how these kids support each other unconditionally in the dressing rooms and on the stage.   What I have not heard is a joy too.  I have not heard about cliques, or bullying, or isolation...just about support, and kindness, and joy.
    Perhaps the most important part of this experience though has been watching my son mature.  He has always been a perfectionist, to the point of pain.  Through this experience he has started to learn it's okay to let go sometimes and just live to enjoy life and revel in  each moment.  He is a child who has always felt "different", but has learned to accept himself and that it take those small differences to make a complete work of art.  He has learned optimism, and his own strength.  Just last night he walked up to me flexing his arm and poking at a new little arch.  "Mom, what's that? Huh? What's that?"
"It looks like a muscle to me."
"Exactly!  I'm getting strong."
Yes you are, my son.  Yes you are.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

around Momma M's house.  We have our tree up, lights on the front of the house, and greens wrapped around the front porch banisters.  The kids have made the ornaments, and the gel clings are waiting to be put on the windows.
Before we started all this, I had the emotional battle of the ages.  What to do with Grandma's old oak round dining table?   We have justified it sitting in our living room these last few months by calling it a "library table."  It is right next to a floor to ceiling bookshelf after all.
When we bought my bright and shiny "new to me" table for my birthday in September we vowed that table would be out of the house by November 1st.   I  offered it to family right away.  I gave them the Nov. 1st pick-it-up-or-else deadline,  but no one had the magic combo of space & transportation.  So in my living room the table sat.  Then it started showing it's usefulness.  For starters, it gave people a place to temporarily park stuff like homework and mail by the door so our "real" dining table could be used for dining.  Then I had guests over a couple times in November, and it served as a beverage station. Kids played games on it on Saturday afternoons.  It seemed to have found a new role in our life.  Suddenly, Thanksgiving had flown by and I needed to get the tree up!  There was no way our huge tree and that table could both be in our living space.  It was time for one or the other to give.  Clearly it was time for the table to go, but no I just couldn't do it.  So we now have a 4.5 tree on top of a white lace tablecloth on our "library" table.  The ornaments the kids made are scattered around it.  The gel clings for the windows are resting under it. There might be a stray headband, or piece of homework or two, but it fits us.  My only thought after was "why didn't I think of this when we had toddlers?"