opportunistic mothering.

today Judah played in his first ever concert. he has this trumpet, this really nice trumpet, that my dad bought him.  My dad plays the trumpet too.  Judah told me last night, ahem, last night, that he needed a white shirt, black dress pants, black dress shoes and a tie to wear for the concert today.  Somehow our local kids consignment shop came through for me on all counts!  $50 later, I left, bag of concert clothes in hand.

I had no inkling he would be looking so forward to the concert today. I have wanted him to have a taste of this: of the success you feel when you apply yourself to something worth your time.  His sweet eyes were so shiny about this. He glowed in his recounting the whole scenario: he played every note perfectly.  He did!  He looked so handsome, but still like a big boy, not like a dude or a guy, so I could really get into it. 4th grade has been great year for us. He has grown in his capacity as a scholar, but he is still super sweet and appropriately childish. He still wants to play board games like Connect 4 with us.

When Judah was smaller, I was significantly depressed. Subsequently, Judah came to be attached to my mother in ways I don't begrudge, he needed motherly attention that I couldn't totally provide. But my heart ached a little to wonder, Who would Judah turn to, first, if he got hurt today? In my heart, I knew the answer was likely my mother.  When I thought about this maybe being the case, I just reminded myself that we still have a lifetime ahead of us, and that I can prove to him that he can come to me over time.

He's been so allergic these last few days.  Seasonal allergies have always been a problem for him.  His eyes, in particular, get really crusty and swollen, and there are literally sheets of mucus lining his eyelids at times.  He is on four medications and his pediatrician doesn't seem to be able to do more.  We'll be seeing an allergist next Wednesday.

But in the meantime, he has been coming to me.  I irrigate those eyes. I take q tips and pull out the floating mucus strings. It doesn't gross me out at all! I rub his back when he gets really irritated about it. I get him an ice pack and give him pain killers. He relaxes his posture.

I earn his trust.  He can come to me. I am here for him.

it's happening-- a little at a time. =)