I've often described Luke to people--family, friends, and strangers alike as 'shy', 'attached', or 'introverted'. Now, I KNOW you are not supposed to label children and put tags on their personality, especially not in front of them. However, I found myself doing this in many settings, most often to excuse his reticent behavior, such as why he was wrapped around my leg at the park or why he refused to leave my lap at a playdate. However, a friend recently reminded me that labeling our children is doing them a disservice. By labeling Luke, I've let him down and if he ever heard me, while I'm sure he doesn't know what "introverted" means, I'm sure he could sense the apologetic disappointment in my voice. I feel terrible about this and can only hope to make it up to him from now on. After all, when you know better, you can do better.
And as for Luke, well, whether he understood the labels I put on him or not, has risen to the occassion and has torn those labels apart one by one. There is a strength in my little guy that I underestimated. When I decided to enroll Luke in a gymnastics class at The Little Gym with his best friend, Tyler, I was scared and anxious about this beyond belief. I had nightmares the night before his first class of Luke just screaming and crying and refusing to leave my side. However, that morning, I put my anxieties aside and acted brave for Luke. And you know, he didn't disappoint. Now, for the first class, I had to stay in the room by the wall, but as he got more and more comfortable, I could move farther and farther away until I was outside the room, looking in. After that first class, I haven't had to go inside once! Last week, I even left the building to deal with Jake's temper tantrum (but that's another story!) Luke didn't even notice I was gone! I guess I just had to give Luke the chance and the opportunity to take life by the horns and go. And go he did, beyond my wildest expectations.
My intent for the class was to work on Luke's separation anxiety. However, the best thing about this class was unexpected and overlooked by me--Luke's self-confidence in himself and his pure enjoyment in the class. Now, a gymnast, my son, is most certainly not. This can most likely be blamed on genetics, as I haven't been able to touch my toes since I was a baby and even as a former cheerleader, I couldn't and still cannot even master a simple cart wheel. However, he does not even notice this. He simply laughs and gives it his all every class. He talks about his excitement at jumping off the mats and swinging from the bar; but doesn't even mention how he can't walk the balance beam all that great yet, nor has he mastered flipping himself over the bar. But these are minor details to me and to him. When he runs out of class happy and excited, my heart swells with pride and joy as I realize that my little boy has accomplished so much more than I could have dreamed. And that is when I promise myself, that I will never shortchange this little guy again, for he is capable of so many great things and ripe with potential--and I cannot wait to discover it all with him.
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