Sunday, December 4, 2011

My Weekend Ungrateful...

Do you remember the days when you were young and you were the last one sitting, waiting to be picked? Be it sport, or debating, fun or competition, how many of you can still recall that horrific hard, solid lump of sadness in the pit of your stomach as the last to pick goes "I guess you are on our team then..."


Frday my heart broke a little. Friday I had to let go of a another slice of my preconceptions. Friday I watched my son in that very position at a school excursion.

I am struggling to think of the greatness of this week as those horrible memories flood back over and over again. I need to remember they are MY scars, not his, and hope that times like this are not forming their own deep within my wonderful son.

For whilst his buddies ran around the theme park, having fun, laughing, for the most of it my son remained with me. Forgotten by his peers.

If his best mate C had been there, this would never have happened. But he does not go to this school.

My child's achievements are incredible. His last report card of Grade 7 was flooded with A's in achievement and behaviour, the comments were wonderful, positive, even a little awe flowed through the words.

His book is looking more and more like it WILL be published - he is 13... who manages to get a book published at 13???

He is happy, settled in his own skin, content to be him... because to be him is pretty awesome!

I need to realise that this pain and anger and frustration is my own, born of my emotions and feelings. Hell, I do realise it BUT it is so damn hard not to let it flow onto his situation.


I need to remember my ending... the fact that those kids in primary school who always picked me last were the very ones who clamoured for me to be their first choice in high school as both my athletic and academic abilities soared.

I need to listen to my son, who when asked if he felt left out or lonely replied "Why would I Mum? I love being with you, we laugh so much and have such fun."

My scars, not his. I love you Boy 1, and really am trying to let your generousity of spirit flow into my essence... but whilst it is still slowly permeating I will  hide my tears.


This is my weekend really wish I was grateful.


Sorry.

6 comments:

Maxabella said...

It's so hard, isn't it? We bring more baggage to our relationship with our children than we could ever unpack. I try to live by the motto 'if it's not bothering them, it's not bothering me' and leave my own interpretation of their situation in my mind. I try not to worry or over-analyse these things. It's hard, but we need to remember that the experience is theirs and theirs alone and they don't know what comes next... and neither do we. x

Me said...

What a heart wrenching post but Maxabella is right - their issues are their issues just like our issues are our issues BUT it is so hard - I know !

Love, hugs and positive energy !

Leanne said...

He's such a great leader MM. So resilient and clever and well rounded. His time will come ...
Just like yours did :)

itsanaddiction said...

What a lovely post. He sounds like an amazing boy, and as long as he's happy that's all that matters.

It's funny looking at the popular kids now, and how they have changed in their adult life. The reality of the situation really hit home when I heard through the grapevine that a girl who was super popular (and bitchy) recently committed suicide. What a waste.

Jen R said...

Oh it is hard not to let our 'scars'rub off on our kids...I was always picked last, the fat girl with glasses....but in the end Im sure Im the happiest now!!

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