Parents night at the school. A five minute window on the 9 - 3 life of your child. A fly on the wall glance into their independent day - and in primary one - a new and novel experience. I like my boys teacher, a woman close to retirement, who as yet seems untired with her trade. The nearly 5 year old, she tells me, is a delight - who works and plays with an enthusiasm and care for those in authority and for his peers.
I worried for my son - not in his learning and not within the structure of the class, but at play - at lunchtime when minutes are his own with no comforting structure in place. A quiet boy, but single minded and stubborn in his play, I feared for co-operation and an ease of making friends. She has put my mind at rest. My child, it seems, has grasped social dynamics with swifter skill than the credit awarded by his mother. Bossiness, and a sheer unyielding direction in all he wishes to do, are kept - it transpires - for home.
Deep breath then - and relax - my boy is making friends. For this early stage - enough. But the best bit, the shining light of observation amidst the must tell stuff of alphabet and counting to ten, was her statement as I walked into the room... "Your child is a star - a boy of quiet voice - who on Wednesdays when it is show and tell - commands the floor. Such a strong force at such a young age - you have an actor there, I would certainly say."
I know this. I fuss, I excuse, I make tired faces when I talk of his love to perform - but I know. It is as clear at the age of less than 5, as it could possibly be, that here is a soul intent on brighter, shinier lights... I could not claim outstanding intelligence or sporting ability of my boy - but give him a moment of your attention, and he will entertain. In a childish manner befitting of his age - but with such a concentration and focus behind his smile, that I see no other way.
How blessed, I feel, to have direction so young, to grasp a corner of your ability and throw your heart and soul in for the ride. A doctor, a plumber, a teacher... vocations where there will always be work. Not this one, he will sink or swim on a stage - under bright lights and with an audience to please. I wish him well. I will cheer and clap the loudest, I will remember his shows and his play in our home, and marvel ever more at my funny, driven and starlit boy... x