Why All the Worry?
Today was Open House at the kids’ schools. This means I could do my very favorite thing in the world: observe my children without having to do anything at all.
First, I drove Dylan to school, where he walked five paces ahead of me on his way to the Morning Show. Dylan works in the booth, running captions, sound, etc. He is much needed in that booth – which gives him not only a sense of importance, but actual importance. The show is a glorified and televised version of middle school morning announcements, and I commented that it went very smoothly. As I was chasing Dylan down the hall to his first period class, he said, “Yeah, it almost always goes that well.”
English took place in the computer lab today, so I watched Dylan excel – since he is one of the few students who already knows how to type. He was forced to learn in 3rd grade, thanks especially to his developmental disorder (whatever it is) that makes it hard to get words from his brain to the paper. In the 45-minute class, most students finished a paragraph, while Dylan pounded out two full pages. And it’s really good. It’s a fictional story based on a photo, and I can hardly wait to read the completed version.
Then we went to Algebra I, where Dylan struggles immensely, and he seemed to be doing just fine. So I promised the teacher I’d email her to set up a conference, and headed off to Shane’s elementary school Open House, which was just starting up.
As I walked out of the building, I felt as though a large boulder rolled off my back – and down the middle school hallways, where I didn’t have to deal with it anymore.
I wasn’t worried anymore. I knew that, whatever the issues with Shane may be, I didn’t have to worry while I was at Shane’s open house. He has dysgraphia but comparatively, it’s such a minor issue. And Shane performed admirably today. This once absurdly shy boy raised his hand a few times, offered some delightful answers, and waved to us as we left. (My husband and mom were there, too.)
After the elementary school tossed us out, I went back to middle school to watch Dylan in P.E. I don’t want anyone to think life is only about math and reading. I was thrilled to watch him flip and fly around during gymnastics, and hang with a contortionist’s skill on the rings. He’s not only brilliant, he’s athletic, too.
I spend hours and hours and days and days worrying about my kids. Then I go to Open House and I see them happy and well-behaved and doing an absolutely exceptional job in whatever they attempt. I beam with pride, smile at the other proud parents, walk out talking about how wonderful it is to see them all so happy.
Today, I went home ecstatic. Then I realized: Dylan didn’t turn in his homework in English! I was THERE and I didn’t see him do it! So I yelled in to the other room – as the fears kicked in again – “Dylan! You didn’t turn in your homework in English!”
“Yes I did,” he said. He did it, and I didn’t even see it.
I think I can stop worrying now.