Although I am exhausted from returning back to work full-time, our family has experienced a series of exciting mini celebrations. The first celebration took place last weekend.
Our dear friends had purchased a new home and we were excited to see it. As expected, it was amazing. The residence overflowed with history and personality. This was the type of house that had stories to tell! My son was impressed with the size of the home and was thrilled that he could easily find a quiet corner to watch a show or play a game on the iPad.
The amazing part of this visit, wasn’t that my son loved their house. We knew that he would since he seems to enjoy the finer things. The part that was shocking really, was the way that he enjoyed the impromptu party that occurred that evening. There was music throughout the house and unknown people arriving and each time a new element was added, I expected him to hit a breaking point. He ate dinner outside, among the bugs that he currently fears, and spoke to people that he had never met. As the wine continued to flow and the conversations grew louder, my son continued to tolerate his surroundings. He spent the majority of time on his iPad but stopped often to check in with us to see if he was missing anything exciting.
The only part of the evening that was hard for him was the fact that our friends left the doors open to their courtyard for easy access. As they went in and out getting party supplies, so did the bugs. My son questioned the homeowners about this practice, but then dropped the lecture when one of our friends casually acknowledged their existence within the walls of their home.
As the party winded down and guests were leaving, I checked on my son. He smiled when he saw me and motioned for me to sit down next to him. He held my hand as he shared his recent game accomplishments. This was a calm kid and I was so proud of his ability to let us have a night that was focused on friends and adults instead of our typical night that focused on our family of three. This had not been our previous party experiences.
Spending the night is something that we can always do but it allowed us the kinds of discussions that don’t take place on Facebook or texts. I loved this extra time to connect and catch up and meeting our friends’ local tribe was an added bonus.
After the wine glasses were empty, we each retired upstairs. As I walked in my room and looked at my sleeping boy, I noticed how he took up most of the bed with his long legs and arms stretched out everywhere. I wondered if he felt successful and confident the way that he had appeared to me.
In the morning, we shared breakfast and another discussion about interior decorating options before we were on our way.
As we made the trip home, I thought about the maturity that we witnessed. I thought about the tolerance that was new and exciting. I know that this is not a steady upward climb because parenting my TBP has been similar to riding the waves…some calm and easy to ride and others require a tight hold to stay aboard!.
I know that I can’t assume that the happy, flexible kid will always be present at the party, but is it crazy to hope that he might show up again?