The Kindergarten Lesson

When Captain Kindergarten walked into the gym single-file behind his classmates I could see him scanning the bleachers for me.

"Not my Mom.  Not my Mom.  Not my Mom.  Oh, where is my Mom?  I want to see my Mom.  Not my Mom.  Not my...MY MOM!!  MY MOM!  MY MOM!!  I better make a silly face at her so she knows how out of the world excited I am to have MY MOM here."  I saw those thoughts on his shy face atop his over-sized puppy dog body as he came in the gym.

That I am MOM petrifies me and brings me to the tip-top of joy everyday.  My children need me.  They have to have me.  There is no replacement.

Sometimes I get too heavy on the petrified side.  I think I am not doing enough or the right things.  I think I am raising them all wrong.  I think that I am driving them to a $100 an hour psychologist in thirty years.  So then I try to correct myself and them in a spastic lunge at being "the good Mom."  This usually results in me being way, way, way, way, way too hard on my five and under crowd.  And here is the case in point.

The Kindergartners sang three songs for their parents today.  Captain Kindergarten has never been what you'd call a real musical fella.  When I tried to sing him Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star or the ABC's when he was a toddler he would get frantically angry with me until I'd stop.  For primary programs he's always diligently gone up to the front of the chapel and then looked around closed-mouthed and bored until everyone else is done singing.  I didn't go into the concert today with high hopes of seeing him being the Fred Astaire of the kindergarten.  But I guess I was hoping for...something. 

He made a fairly admirable stab at singing the first song.  He attempted some of the actions and was trying to sing a few of the words he must have accidentally picked up during music class.  The second song he one-hundred percent nailed.  It was Itsy-Bitsy Spider with all the classic actions.  My mother-heart was thrilled.  But the third song proved too much.  It was entirely too much singing for this five-year-old boy for one afternoon.  He went off into Captain Kindergarten-land.  While the 99 other kindergartners grooved and moved to the happy beat of "Our Future is Great!" Captain Kindergarten, the lone uninvolved kindergartner, slowly twisted his body back and forth and stared off into the floor or up into the ceiling.  Once or twice he looked up at me and made silly faces.  Then it was back into la-la land.  Although, to give him credit, he did get the last two fist-pumping "Great's!" in.

I made a note of all this and was planning on dumping my concern about Captain Kindergarten's obviously unique and alarming song learning disability which probably signaled greater and more terrible issues of non-paying attentionness, to Spouse-the-Poor-Man after the kids went down for bed.  Then I was slammed into my proper place.

The principal announced that the Kindergarten teachers wanted to give out their citizenship awards to one girl and one boy from each kindergarten class.  I knew Captain Kindergarten wouldn't be receiving this one so I was politely and absent-mindedly clapping when his teacher announced him as the citizenship award winner in her class.  I second-checked with my ears that I heard right.  I fumbled for my camera.  I didn't even see Captain Kindergarten's reaction when his name was called because I wasn't looking anywhere near him at the time.  By the time I saw him he'd already made his way down from the risers onto the floor and had his certificate gripped in his hands.  He had a shy closed-mouth grin on his face.  He was totally caught up in joy.  I thought about how I had doubted him.  I thought about how I hadn't understood him or believed in him like I should have.  I thought of the times I'd gotten after him for getting a note home from school.  I felt so proud of him and embarrassed for me.  I felt teary and grateful and ready to be an unpetrified MOM, a tip-top of joy MOM.  A fearless MOM who believes her children are good and wonderful and capable of great things and not just in spite of her.

Thank you Captain Kindergarten, you good boy.  You will teach me to be a better person yet.