The world as seen through the eyes of an exhausted, caffiene addicted, homeschooling, atheist mama.

Posts tagged ‘childhood’

He gets it from his father

Hubby love the theatre.  Loves it so much he spells it theatRE instead of theater like most people. BB, it seems, has also developed a love for performance.  Lord knows he didn’t get that gene from me, so I can only assume that’s something he got from his dad.

The poor kid was sick all last week, but he really wanted to audition for A Mirical on 34th Street this weekend.  As luck (and some wonderful tinctures) would have it, he was well enough to attend the last day of auditions yesterday.  He was still kinda under the weather and certainly not at his best, but he was in high spirits and was absolutely adorable and confident.  He didn’t show any signs of nervousness that one would expect from a first time auditioner, and he later told me “Anyway, what’s the point in being nervous?  I had fun at the audition and that’s what it’s about”.  Wise kid.  He gets that from his mother.  As we left, we were told call backs would happen later that night, so we went home, grilled some hot dogs and decorated the house for Halloween.

A few minutes before dinner we got the call, and he was cast.  Tonight is the first rehearsal and BB is so proud of himself and so pleased to be going to this “very important actors meeting”.  Looks like I’ll be getting to know the staff of the community theatre pretty well.  Currently, Hubby is assistant directing a production for them and he’s up there M-F  6-9.  BB will be up there 3x per week from 6:30-8:30.  My ultimate hope is that someday Hubby and BB can do something together.  I think that would be an experience they’ll both cherish for the rest of their lives.

I’m really proud of my kid.  Not because he was cast, but because he was brave enough to audition to begin with.  There is no way you could have dragged me to an audition when I was a kid.  Not even with the promise of a million new books.  I was too fearful and filled with too much self doubt and loathing. But BB, I’m learning, isn’t me.  He’s not like I was as a kid because he doesn’t have to be.  He has a vastly different childhood and the result is that he’s a sweet, smart, funny, brave, confident and wise child.  Sometimes I look at him and actually see that glow of childhood around him.  I hope that he will carry that distinct glow for the rest of his life.


Celebration of Success 2008

Yesterday was a special day for me.  Every year our homeschool co-op has what is called a Celebration of Success.  It’s a picnic type thing at a park where each parent recognizes their child’s achievements and accomplishments of the “school” year.  Most of us, myself included, homeschool year round, but we all figure that with the coming of summer, this is as good a time as any to celebrate our children’s successes.  This year BB has discovered a joy of performance by being a part of two variety shows as well as a student written and produced opera.  He’s taken off with his math and reading, and he surprises me daily with his empathy and compassion and oftentimes profound way of looking at life.  I can’t imagine being prouder of my kiddo.  Hubby seemed to enjoy getting together with the group and talking about BB’s accomplishments, too.  He doesn’t really have many opportunities to brag about his little one and I was glad he got that chance yesterday.

If BB were in school, he’d have just finished up his kindergarten year and would be, officially, a first grader.  It’s so hard to believe that he’s gotten so big and old.  Yet at the same time, he still seems so little to me.  I can’t imagine him going off to school, riding the schoolbus all alone yet.  Some might think I’m over protective or too attached, but I don’t see it that way.  It seems to me that kids aren’t kids as long as they should be, and having been one of those children who was forced to grow up sooner than is fair or right, I fiercely protect my own child’s childhood.  I love that he prefers to watch Little Bear over Spongebob.  I adore that he feels he’s not ready to read Harry Potter, and I rejoice that he still likes to curl in my lap and hug me. 

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