Mom Fail

I screwed up today. That, of course, is not big news. I screw up in one way or the other every day. But today's screw up was deeper, and came with one of those revelatory, "Duh!" lightbulb kind of moments.

This morning, Matt and I attended the kindergarten parent breakfast with the boys. They were so excited because all of the classes we're going to be singing for the parents at the breakfast. Hays was particularly excited because they were singing Skinnamarink (you know, skinnamarinkydinkydink, skinnamarinkydo, I love you...), and we've always sung that song. So he couldn't wait to get up there. Until he was up there.

I saw it coming. I saw the lip start to tremble, I saw the eyes start to water, and I knew exactly what was about to happen. Sure enough, halfway through the first song, he bolted off stage and ran to me. And did I hold him and tell him it was okay and give him a reassuring hug? No, I didn't- and that was a mom fail.

My first reaction was, "Oh crap, of course, it's my kid that's not behaving. It's my kid that's acting out." So my response to him was, "Hays! Stop! You're fine. Get back up there and do what you're supposed to do! You're embarrassing me!" And when he refused, I said, "Fine. just sit there and be quiet." Ugh, such fail. You can judge me, it's okay. I promise I'm judging myself just as harshly.

Luckily, that was when I had my completely obvious, but hereforto unseen to me revelation. He's not acting out- he's scared. He looked out at that sea of faces and flashbulbs, and got a case of good old fashioned stagefright. He didn't run to me because he's an uncooperative brat, he ran to me because he was overwhelmed.

That's when I did the right thing. I leaned over to my little buddy, put my arm around him, and said, "It's okay, baby, I know you're just nervous. I understand. You can stay here with me if you need to." And he told me, "Mommy, I don't like everybody looking at me and smiling at me. It makes me feel shy." I guess I didn't recognize it at first, because it's not a feeling I've ever had. I have never had a problem being the center of attention, and always relished being on stage. I love an audience. So do Will and Mason. But not my Haysie, and that's okay.

And what do you know, as soon as I reassured him, they started in on Skinnamarink, and my boy took off like a rocket, took his place right there in the middle of the front row, and sang his little heart out. Eyes locked on me, pointing directly at me during the "I love you" part of the song. Redemption and forgiveness right there in the primary school cafeteria.

When he came off the stage, I told him what an awesome job he did. And I told him I was sorry that I got on to him for being nervous, and that I was so proud of him for being so brave. I messed up today, but I learned something in the process. They're not always going to be exactly what I think they should be. Sometimes they'll be shy when I think they should be bold. Sometimes they'll be bold when I wish they'd be reserved. But I always want to be their port in the storm, their safe spot when everything gets to be a little too much, and I always want to be their biggest fan when they overcome their fears and shine like stars.