I found myself thinking today... not always the best thing. I have had this little problem since I was young... I get REALLY nervous about anything new. New job, new town, new situations, new school years (my mom seriously thought I was going to end up in home school my 7th grade year I was so nervous... seriously pathetic... I know) anything that I cannot figure out in my mind before hand makes me really anxious. I found those same nerves creeping around inside of me as I thought about my soon departure to Texas on Friday. I am fortunate enough to be attending a photography workshop. I get time to myself, time to learn something new, time to dedicate to something I love. However, it is also something that will be done not only in a completely new arena but done completely by myself... double whammy in my book. I have spent the afternoon giving myself a pep talk, trying to calm my nerves and allow the excitement and anticipation take its place. I was honestly feeling a bit sorry for myself... in a really lame kind of way.
However my perspective was greatly and unexpectedly changed in the most unlikely of places... a baseball diamond specked with 5 and 6, and one 4 year-old boys. We signed Cade up to play coach pitch baseball this season. One requirement, he plays a year up. I have been excited for him to be able to really play but a little nervous (go figure) because he would be by far the youngest and most inexperienced player. As we walked toward the diamond where all the boys had already started practicing Cade says, "mom, they are all way bigger than me!" Not wanting him to worry I said, "no they aren't Cadeo, don't worry about it." He looks up, smiles, says, "oh, okay," and runs out to join them... not a care in the world. I watched him get a little frustrated but only needing a kind reassurance from his dad to pump him back up.
I spent the remainder of practice with knots in my stomach. I didn't want him to feel inferior. I didn't want him to get frustrated. I didn't want him to get hurt. I didn't want him to be scared. I didn't want him to be nervous. I asked Jared several times, "was this such a good idea?" "Are you sure he shouldn't play with the kids his own age this year?" "Are you SURE this is a good idea." Each time he calmly reminded me not to worry. I still bit my fingernails every time it was Cade's turn to hit or catch.
Once practice was over I stood by the dugout and watched my little 4-year-old come in with a smile. I listened as they talked amongst themselves, one said, "I am 6," and another boy responds, "I am 6 too!" and Cade enthusiastically adds, "I am 4!" I smile to see that the only time Cade is the same height as the other boys is when they are sitting and he was standing.
It was in those moments that I realized this is what life is all about, being stretched. This is what I want for my children, to become better, to reach higher, to push harder. It is just sometimes hard for a mommy to sit back and watch it happen. Even though, most of the time, I feel more stress, worry, and heartache for them than they do for themselves. I realized that the worry I felt for myself became so insignificant and paled in comparison for what I felt for my child. However, my child, the one I love so much, the one who could have felt so inferior, the one who really pushed the comfort barriers... just went for it. He didn't look back. He didn't dwell on the nerves. He didn't allow worry to hold him back. He believed in himself and just did it.
So, here I sit not only determined to cherish this lesson but to put it into action. If Cade can do it so can I. This is why we are here... right. To be stretched. To reach higher. To push harder. To become better.
So, wish me luck... I am off to stretch.
