Just Show Up

I’ve made a mess of things.

Really, truly. Please read this and make a mental note of WHAT NOT TO DO.

Today my son received the Presidential Fitness and Presidential Education Awards. Can you imagine how excited I was when I read the letter the school sent out about this day? Max is a brilliant, sweet, astonishingly mature kid who will clearly change the world. And I could hardly wait for the award presentation.

My own education was a disappointment– home school and community college. And unconsciously, I think I expected my children's schooling to make up for mine in every way.

I was in the assembly hall for less than 45 minutes and Max’s awards went by quickly.

I said very little in his class room, but since I have skills in hiding my feelings, Max couldn't read my excitement and became sad about his report card. “It’s a perfectly good report card! Why do you think that it is bad to get a "B"? Why aren’t passing grades ever good enough?” I wanted to say, instead I just hugged him.

And all he could do was cry. Cry because I’d ruined his moment, because I’m so terrible at faking emotions and because he’s always been good enough for me. Always.

He went bowling with his friends after school, and then his friend Olivia invited him over to her house for a school's out/sixth grade graduation/swimming party at her pool.

What I wanted to tell Max and all the kids in the awards assembly this morning was this: I’m going to tell you one of your parents’ great secrets. You know all the fuss they make about your grades and making the team and getting awards? This competition, this drive to measure up: It’s all a show. Your parent’s are in love with you anyway. From the moment you were born they adored you — all you had to do was show up.



That’s it, Max. Thanks for showing up. I love you.