tears

I have lessons to learn. Being a good mom does not come natural to me, although I did have a great mom growing up. I try to glean every bit of wisdom and creativity from moms around me and moms that write. But there are always going to be instances that I'll have to go it alone.

Today was one of those days. I knew it was going to be a busy day. This week, we've got gymnastics camp in the mornings and basketball camp in the evenings. Our lazy days of summer have come to a screeching halt.

So this morning, we headed off to the gymnastics center. An amazing place. The kids were enthralled as soon as we walked in...people flipping and balancing... equipment that bounces and squishes...every kid's dream. EXCEPT....that Joaquin is going through some kind of separation anxiety. It's been going on all summer. It means tears and clinging for any camp we've signed up for, and usually a two day maximum for attendance.
I thought the gym would be different because Isabela is there, too. But it wasn't.

I watched longingly as parents sent their kids to the mat and waved good-bye. There were a few that lingered, but then it was just me. Holding Diego, with Joaquin sitting at my side. Isabela was already tumbling along.

The coach came over and said I could stand by him if it would help. So I slipped off my flip-flops and walked him over to his group...an all boys group, I might add. And there I stood, with Diego weighing heavily in my arms, as Joaquin raced through the obstacle course.

But as soon as I would mention leaving, he was by my side, holding my arm, teary-eyed.

Nothing I said could change his mind. So after an hour, we left together.

I did have a little melt down in the car. I worry that he's missing out on life. I worry that it will get worse. I worry that I've somehow caused this.
I told him that he's so talented and shouldn't waste his talents doing nothing. I tried to imagine what could be going through his mind.

But I know that feeling he has. Most of us do. That nervous, what-if-I-make-a-fool-out-of-myself-in-front-of-everybody feeling. It's why I say no a lot. It's why I find a way to talk myself out of many ideas that I have.

It's looking up a tree, that's taller in your mind than it is in real-life, and wondering if you can make it to the top. At some point you take a step out, on a branch that might not be sturdy. And you might not be caught if you fall.

And as much as I want to be there to catch him if he falls, and as much as it hurts to know that I might not be there, I also realized that I DO want him to take that step out. Because he might not fall. He just might go higher.

So... we'll go back tomorrow. Hopefully with a little more confidence.

And just maybe, his bare little feet will step on that mat, and not look back.

Then I'll be the one that's teary-eyed.