A short and late-ish friday forte post cos I'm still wittering on about what a time crunch I'm in until school is back (which I'm not counting until Wednesday since Tuesday is a pissy old 30 minutes during which the teachers do what exactly??).
Anyhows ..... back to the blog post.
The Wee Guy and I went to the fair on Wednesday (though I had to check on the photo info for the date as I just couldn't remember!!). Yes, The Fair (that one!).
We had a lot of fun, mostly guided by my small companion's whims (apart from the very sore and vexatious question on buying super-tacky light saber glowsticks which I vetoed - much sadness in the land of small). His most adventurous self-guided moment was volunteering as cheerleader at the pig races. He stuck his little arm in the air, energetically waving it around, no doubt assuming that, as always, he would never be picked.
But he was.
He was the smallest cheerleader in that race.
Let's back up a little for readers unfamiliar with PNE pig racing. As far as I understand, it's a tradition in the Farm Country barn. Cute pink porkers race around a narrow trackway to be first at the feeding barrel. (They run just after the ducks, in case you are interested). The crowd is divided into four teams, each with two piggies to cheer on. And this is where the cheerleaders come in.
So, back to my Wee Guy.
He was picked.
He left his seat and joined the other cheerleaders. He was in charge of Team One.
And that's when the stage fright took hold. The other three Chosen Ones managed to swallow the banter and hurl a few pig noises into the microphone .... but when it came to the Wee Guy's turn he just crumpled, put his face in his hands and sobbed.
At this point I didn't know what to do.
I felt like rushing to his side and whisking him away. Should I 'helicopter' in to rescue him and protect him from this uncomfortable moment? Ought I rush to his aid and mother him? Should I make it alright for him? How long should I leave him to wrestle with the situation on his own? What kind of mother could 'abandon' her child like this?
But as I twitched on the bleachers I saw him pull himself together and stand up. The other cheerleaders had another 'oink' into the mic, then it was the Wee Guy's turn again. He stood tall and managed an squeal or a "souieeee" (I forget at this point which pig-associated noise they were on to) into the PA.
Team One cheered.
My heart burst with pride, along with the rest of Team One judging by the encouragement he was getting from them. Then we all 'stood' behind him in a cheerleading contest, cheering as much for him as for the pigs.
Then the pigs raced. And he waved the Team 1 flag. And we lost, but he still got a T shirt, a coupon for Those Little Donuts, and we were both puffed up with pride for the rest of our visit.
He discovered that I can be proud of him for the strangest of reasons.
I learned that his inner strength and character are stronger than I thought.
I learned that even though he can do it all by himself, I still feel like I should be there instead.
And it reminded me that sometimes ... OK most of the time, even if you don't want to (someone call the cavalry?), getting in there and fixing it yourself can be the best reward.
forte Wee Guy, bravo!
pig race T shirt winner
grappling with career, balance and midlife in the midst of the domestic scene
Friday, September 03, 2010
friday forte: to helicopter or not to helicopter?
friday forte: to helicopter or not to helicopter?
2010-09-03T22:37:00-07:00
pomomama