I'm constantly learning. The category varies upon the experience. Sometimes it's about myself. Sometimes about other people - what makes them tick, what makes them happy, what they need to succeed, etc. In this season of my life, the majority of my learning comes from my kids. Now, I know them. Better than anyone. I can read my son like a book. He's so sensitive to what people say, yet can get so angry. He's caused me to take many deep breaths and walk away so many times, but I always return with the lesson, when he can listen and really hear me. Because he'll remember. And, he's so affectionate. He never forgets to hug, even after he's mad. We don't nearly have the same nature, except for the introverted part and thinking part, yet I get him, because he's so much like his daddy. I only pray that he meets a girl one day that gets him too.
But, it's this little girl that keeps me guessing. Miss Martha Kate. From the day she was born, I was caught off guard. She was tiny but fiery - no change there. She stood up in her bed at 5 months, climbed the six foot fence at 12 months, and could turn on the water in the bathroom sink before she could really walk. She has been in a fairly world since birth - one filled with rainbows and magic creatures. The dolls in her room have souls and brains. She has no organization whatsoever - she mixes the polly pockets with the lalaloopsies and it doesn't bother anyone but me. She sings and dances. Constantly. To whatever music - even none at all. She thinks she knows how to tap dance and do ballet but refuses lessons because she "already knows how."
So, a few weeks ago she decided she wanted to try out for the school play. There were these songs on the website she had to learn so I played them a few times and taught her the shortest one. They were kind of weird musical type songs that little kids really don't sing so truthfully, I didn't put forth much effort. I signed her up for an audition workshop. It's an after school session where in the course of about an hour and a half, you're supposed to learn all the songs and the dance to audition. I had no choice in the matter, because I certainly couldn't teach her the dance. I chose to sit through it myself. I was a little nervous that she might bail and kind of wanted to be there if she did and also very curious as to how this went down in case I were to devote myself to a season of play practice. They shuttled these children into a room to learn the songs - I didn't attend this part but they returned to the cafeteria for the dance part. She was the tiniest by far. And way in the back. The kids on stage teaching this dance started with the first part, "sashay, ball chain," or whatever. I was in extreme panic mode. I wanted to bolt and nobody was asking me to dance. I mean, I was, sweaty-palm-get met out-crawl-in-a-hole, horrified. And, Kate, well, she was dancing. It was no where near the same timing or direction as the others, but she hadn't a care. She very much enjoyed the scissor kick part and went leaping across the floor. Her left was her right and her bow was at least 5 seconds behind. Perfectly content. She was not concerned that the timing was off or that hers didn't look like the girl in front of her. I was sitting there still on the flight side of the fight or flight, both proud and jealous. There were moms on top of the cafeteria tables videoing the dance. I'm assuming it was so they could practice at home but I figured it would be an exercise in futility for me considering that in order to teach it, I would also have to learn it and both were out of the question, so I kept my seat.
Now, I also know that judges aren't looking at what proud mamas see as and an expression of individuality so I took the offer of a sweet young friend to help my Kate with the dance number, and we are certainly grateful. I'm not going to turn down good help.
So, audition day arrives. It's only 2 days later - I'm also all about not dragging something out. For the first time ever, I saw my little girl get a little shaken. She actually cried about being too little and not good at the dance. I reassured her that it really didn't matter, she just had to do her best. I was certain nobody could learn how to scissor kick and sashay in 2 days. She said she didn't want to try out.
Now, here's where I wavered and here's also where I learned. In that moment, I wanted so badly to say "okay, then we'll stay home." Lord knows I wanted another cup of coffee. But, I realized one thing. She's not me. She's already come farther in this fiasco than I ever would, especially at 5 years old. I barely spoke to adults at her age and clearly remember hiding in my mom's full length pleated teacher skirts when someone spoke to me. My daddy paid me a quarter to say my kindergarten speech. I must have really wanted that quarter badly and I'm certain it was a last ditch effort on his part. I made her go. We finish what we start here. That lesson I just can't waiver on.
She gave me the sulky look the whole time before she was called. The one where she purses her lips and pushes her eyebrows together. She refused to warm up and practice, she pulled on the number that was pinned on her, sat solemnly and glared at me. But, when it was time to get in line, she did it. She was at least a foot shorter, maybe two, than everybody in her group and when one little girl commented, "oh, she's so tiny!" I was sure she was about to sock her judging by the look on her face.
When it was all said and done, Kate came back and asked if she could go to Target. I asked if she sang her song, and she said, "Yes, but I didn't do a cartwheel. She said you didn't have to - you could do whatever you wanted as long as you didn't leave the room." Alrighty then. Who knows what happened. I'd love to have been a fly on the wall.
And, I took her to Target. I bought her Sofia's castle too. She didn't ask for it, but I was so proud of her for being brave enough to follow through with something she didn't want to and I wanted her to learn that regardless of the outcome, she finished what she started. Plus, I had a gift card and needed to keep her busy so I could recuperate from the 5 boy sleepover the night before.
And, I learned. A lot. She may look like me, but she isn't me. She's Martha Kate. And, a whole lot of Martha, apparently. I learned that regardless of how much I may hate the activity, she may love it, and I may have to learn to love it - and seek professional assistance. I learned that she has the courage to stand in front of people and do things that I wouldn't dream of doing - like dancing and singing. I learned that by even making her go through with it, she was 10 steps ahead of where I was at 5 or 25. I learned that's sometimes it's okay to push, just a little, for the good of the experience. I learned that her saying she didn't want to try out was more about her really wanting to stay home and play with her dolls than actually trying out. And, I learned to be okay with the outcome, before the outcome is decided.
Miss Martha Kate didn't get a part in the school play this year. I can't say that I'm upset. As much as I wanted her to succeed, I also knew that when it came to practicing, she's not ready for the long hours that it requires. In my eyes, she was very successful. And as for her, she doesn't care either way. She simply said, "well, I didn't get a call back" and went on with her day. We never even told her she didn't get a part. The funny thing is that she also walked away knowing 8 new broadway songs and a dance that she now practices daily on her fake dance floor. Hilarious. I know our days are coming when she really wants something and doesn't get it, has to deal with disappointment and peer pressure. I know it will break my heart. I only hope she will keep a little of the "life goes on" attitude with her, but I also know reality.
For now, I will enjoy the school play with my little girl on my lap and not on stage, watching her experience the wonder of it all and continue to dream. I will be grateful that she is just as happy watching as she is dancing on the stage. I will push her, just a little, because she can handle it.
I will hold onto to little as long as I can.
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