December 2, 2010- A Stomach Full of Butterflies

     Tonight, my oldest son performed as a newscaster in his third grade holiday musical.  The Kindergarten through third grade all have one musical play a year, the K-1st grades combine for a show around May, and the 2^nd- 3^rd grades always perform in December. This may be one of the last musicals I’ll see my son in because next year they start going to band and choir instead of whole class musicals, so unless he gets into performing theatrically in his teenage or adult years, it’s another sign of how quickly time passes and how much he’s growing up. He will be in upper elementary school next year, and I’ll probably become not so cool to hang out with anymore, although I hope not.
     I’ve really enjoyed spending these years so close to my son, not only in terms of our close relationship, but also in terms of working and living as close as any island community does.  Unlike other parents who work outside of education, I have had the privilege of being intimately involved in school activities since he was in preschool due to my career in the field, and I am thankful for that too.  I love to watch my sons grow, and it also reminds me of what it’s like to be a kid, so I can relate better to them when there’s a challenge in their lives. For example, tonight and actually the past day or two, my oldest has had an upset stomach, but with no real indication of why. When he started complaining about it after school today and told me that he was excited and nervous about performing tonight (as he had more lines in this play than he has ever had before, and he forgot one or two during the dress rehearsal performance for the school yesterday), I realized EXACTLY what it was.  He just had a stomach full of butterflies.
     I performed a lot growing up, especially for the church, up in front of the entire congregation singing solos for the special music.  I always started out with a slight shakiness to my voice, and I could feel my whole body trembling as those butterflies stirred about, but once I got going and realized I was going to do fine, my voice strengthened, and it never kept me from wanting to perform.  Now, I am so used to be up in front of people of all ages because of my teaching experience that I don’t usually have butterflies.  Sometimes I wish I did though because there’s also such a thing as being too comfortable and saying too much or not in the way you intended.  Bottom line, I remember what those butterflies feel like, and I was excited and nervous for my son due to my own memories of that time in my life.
     When we are little, everything else around us seems so large and bigger than life. I remember seeing my PE teacher from elementary school years later when I was grown, and I couldn’t believe how small he was.  He was always so tall and such a presence in my school life.  Later, he was just a man, no larger or smaller than any other.  He is still a really neat, fun-loving teacher, but just a man, not the Super Hero of Physical Education I remember. That’s what I have to keep reminding myself about the boys as they grow up, that things which seem like minor issues to me as an adult, sometimes really feel like the end of the world to my kids.  Comfort them, encourage them, maybe help them realize that it’s not the “be all end all,” and stay calm when they are not. That’s the most important thing I’ve learned. Don’t ignore or discount what they are feeling, just let them feel it, knowing it’s a part of growing up that won’t last forever, for either of you.