Dude it pulled out all the stops to make my day a long one.
Last week I was informed my daughter had been selected by the school to read her poem in the school talent show.
Miss Hansolo had issues with social phobias (Not to mention she is in speech therapy) so I was unsure if they /I could get her to go read before a LARGE audience. .
(Sorry for the blurry pictures... fidgety nervous mama behind camera)
Much to my surprise that little turkey-bob knocked it out of the park. We arrived early to the dress rehearsal so she could go walk on stage and get comfortable. By the time she got to perform She was in her groove...and was so cute taking command of the stage and belting out her poem.
It was amazing to see her growth and confidence in just a years time. She enunciated clearly and used all the lessons from speech therapy. I didn't see ANY of her nervous tongue action (she likes to lick her nose when stressed). It was like an out of body experience.
But the true performer of the day was my anxiety. We covered what a lunatic my writing mind is recently.
Now let me introduce you to my anxiety mind.
Its starts the day of with a few rounds of
"your not going to hear the alarm clock! your going to miss the dress rehearsal."
I ignore it.
"She going to see a bug and have a melt down on stage."
Once we got there...it ramped up speed.
"she is going to fall off stage, she is going to fall down the stairs, she is going to trip over the mic cord and be embarrassed she is going to drop the mic, she going to get up there and lick her nose and everyone will laugh, she going to freeze and then run off stage in fear.."
I remained cool and calm on the outside ignoring the assault occurring internally. I presented a pristine cool pond on the outside as I pretended I was totally comfortable with everything. I hoped that would reassure my daughter, and stop the insane chatter internally.
Turns out my daughter had it in the bag and was loving all this talent show stuff. Where she got this from I don't know.
I on the other hand was contemplating taking ativan to stop me from bolting out the door in parental-per-performance anxiety.
Smooth sailing through dress rehearsal. Take that anxiety, you only get to torture me, you can't hurt my daughter.
Watching all these beautiful children perform was a big connection to my fellow man. To see the hopes and dreams of everyone was like drawing a pail of pristine water from my inner well. It gave me much to reflect on. I never saw myself as the mother of a child who wasn't socially awkward...I'm not sure how to react to this. I am the epitome of social weirdness.
I hope I don't hold her back if this is her path. I see personal growth looming in my future, just because I am the mother of a child who is is going to make me get out of my box.
The actual performance was amazing. Just amazing. I drank up all that childhood excitement and connecting with my fellow humans.
This apparently pissed off the anxiety though and it did this to me near the end of the show as its final act of the night.
"You shouldn't be here. Someone could come in here and start shooting, or detonate a bomb. Gathering like this are no longer safe."
I glanced down at my happy daughter curled up next to me laughing at the skit on stage. I glanced at the people around me. The faces all absorbed in the moment. The love and life just radiating in the auditorium.
The joy I had been feeling pooled in my stomach and soured into fear.
oh you bastard, that was not fair. That was not fair.