How I Made It Through My Son’s First Dance
When Livvy, the English Courtesan asks me for more posts about Brian, I definitely stop what I am doing and oblige. She refers so many readers from her blog to mine. She has been wonderful to me as a blogger. I will always post for her and for Bob. So Livvy, this post is for you -
Many things happened over the holiday season. It went by so fast I am still not sure if it really happened at all. Our tree is already down, the lights are packed away and all the gifts that didn’t work (or fit) have been returned.
The highlight of my holiday season was Brian’s very first dance. It was his Christmas dance.
To my own bewilderment I seemed to want to project my childhood on my son:
“Brian, are you sure you want to go?”
(sigh) “Y E S Mom.”
“OK, because if you think you don’t want to -”
“MOM! I want to go, ok?!”
I feel fortunate that the boys want to get ready for the dance in our home. Alex chose to come over and get ready with Brian. Terry (Brian’s dad) irons ties, shirts and reminds them to wear deodorant. It must be a guy thing.
No white socks. No tennis shoes. Was someone paying these boys money? Is there a free video game involved?
The fact that they brushed their teeth and placed breath mints in their pockets (on their own) made me want to pass out. Who are these young men and what have you done with my son and his best friend?
To my greater shock: both were excited.
I am still reveling in the fact that they let me take photos. They even stood still.
My ex husband was the chauffeur and I rode shotgun. The dance was being held at a hall about 5 blocks from our home. It was a short trip. The boys laugh and shove each other in the back seat the entire way. I am nervous for them.
I worry Brian is not going to have fun, so I slip him my cell, and tell him to call me if he isn’t having fun. It is at this point he looks at me like I am an alien. I realize at this moment he might like girls more than he’s been telling me.
DUH MOM.
I’m still impressed that the boys let my ex and I come into the dance and take a photo.
Yes – there were other neurotic adult moms parents there with cameras too … so bite me.
The girls look beautiful and the boys: handsome. Are you sure these are the same teenagers I see walking to school in sweats, baggy pants and get- out-of-my-face t-shits with Ipod ear buds hanging from their ears?
All the mothers of boys look lost. All the fathers of girls look ill.
Do our children really have to grow up now?
As Brian’s dad and I leave to go find something to do for the three hours before we return to pick up Brian, I manage to witness Brian’s transformation to adulthood, or the disappearance of his childhood. In the distance I notice him approach a pretty girl in a gown that happens to be his favorite color: green. Yeah, I am sure it was the color that attracted him [insert redhead mother's roll of eyes here]. He seems to ask her to dance, she seems to agree and they walk out on the dance floor. No, I did not start to cry. I think I was struck dumb.
I did sneak a photo.
No he didn’t see me.
Thank God.
He is dancing!
Does this mean he isn’t suffering?
Is he having fun?
My ex husband grabs my elbow in that you-may-be-my-ex-wife-but-I-can-still-save-our-son-from-his-mother-before-he-is-mortified pull and moves me out of the hall. Oddly, I don’t kill him. We go out for coffee, which feels strange on so many levels. I have the weirdest divorce of anyone I know. I’m sure Brian will blame us for any relationship quirks that show up when he is an adult. I can hear his excuses for not committing now.
It feels like three days instead of three hours before we are able to go back to pick up Brian from the dance. We never do get the “I am hating this, please come get me” phone call. I don’t know whether to be relieved or distressed. My ex and I walk to the corner of the hall where we said we’d meet Brian at the end of the dance. I strain my eyes and stand on my tip toes trying to find him in the blur of dancing bodies. Everyone is dancing. In the distance I catch a glimpse of what looks like Brian’s head. I birthed that bowling ball so I sure can spot it in a crowded room.
Just at that moment the crowd seems to thin and I get a clear view of my son. A girl is leaning on his shoulder and they are deep in conversation with other kids. It appears as if Brian is turning our way and my ex and I say in unison, “Turn away, don’t let him see you looking!” In a flash we are both staring at a blank wall.
A tap to my shoulder turns me around. It is Brian, “OK Mom I’m tired and the dance is over. I want to go home. Oh, and I’m hungry too. Can we get something to eat?” With that I have my old son back and we leave the dance.
Pulling good teeth out, with a feather, on a wild cat is easier than getting a teenage boy to talk about a night out. But finally, about three days later, he did say, “It was great. I had the best time of my life.”
I already guessed that. He kept humming his way around the house. He’s not usually a hummer.
Luckily no phone numbers were exchanged, so I got to dodge that bullet, for now.
This teenage stuff is stressful for us parents. I need a support group!
Happy New Year. I wish the very best for all of you in 2009.
Until next time-
C
http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com
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Won’t be too long until he is dating.
I love this, you are my glimpse into what will come, thank you! Happy New Year!
Agggghhhhhhh say it isn’t so!
Shannon is my nieces name. Thank you for your kind comment. Happy New Year!
Thank you Brenda. Didn’t you and I go to the 9th grade dance together … and your dad drove us? Or am I completely losing my mind here? Agh 4 years… and you have a girl. I’ll start lighting candles for you now. Happy New Year Brenda.
I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I don’t know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading your funny mom stories.
Awwwwwwwwwwwww Catherine – I am so honoured and thank you so much for sharing this! You just reminded me why we all need at least one Brian story a day. Incidentally when Bob’s prediction comes true, the key learnings on white socks and deodorant will be very useful. If you could spread the word to England on that too I’d be much obliged and when you get the book deal (as I feel oddly certain you will – this is just such a fabulous read) please make sure there are a good few UK stockists on the list.
I also squealed with laughter at your reference to the number of referrals…erm…how should I put this? It’s because you’re first in the list of Lewd Links Livvy Likes. That combined with the fact that you’re a redhead and I like you encourages the pre-Raphaelite pervsters. I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but I find it quite funny as you’re actually nice and clean so I regard it as part of my mission to get them all to read something other than smut! Smut like mine that is.
Of course the fact that you still look hilariously gorgeous in a face mask just encourages them. Oh dear! Looks like my pervs might be here to stay…
Livvy xxx
Thank you for stopping by and reading, then leaving a comment Joyce.
LOL you are too funny and thank you for all your kind words of support and encouragement … and your motivating emails.
Oh honey there is sooooo that naughty redhead side of me, but I seem to be keeping it at bay as I raise this teenage boy. Heaven help anyone who is around me after he turns 18…
THAT should make your pervs happy.
Hugs,
Cath