Sunday, July 29, 2007

A slice of perfection.

No, not a foodie post.
A Family Day post. A "This Makes It All Worthwhile" post.

I don't often post about daily grind. Who wants to re-live that?! Sometimes I comment about parenting a child on the always-exciting Autism spectrum, but mostly out of anger with The System. (Which we abandoned long ago, and are now spending our future retirement funds on getting private therapies for our son. And which has made all the difference in his very being.)
But this post? This is a post about our oldest son, Parker. He is an Average Child. Average height, average strengths in school, average in alot of measurements of physical and mental achievements. Which is wonderful. I am learning that Average is EASY. Where he soars above the crowd is when he practices and exhibits the martial art of Tae kwon do.
Yesterday, Parker tested for his blue belt. His form was so flawless in his execution - even when he faltered - that the crowd was absolutely silent. Another parent whispered to us "He is really an exquisite child." And my heart nearly burst.
Two other classmates of Parker's now attend tae kwon do with him, and one of the boys tested with Parker yesterday. It was wonderful to see his parents at their first belt testing, to know the emotions that they were feeling, and to be ecstatic with them when their son executed his form successfully and snapped his board with the first kick. We went out to dinner afterward, and people oh'd and ah'd when the 2 little dudes waltzed in in their tae kwon do uniforms. (Okay, there were three additional very cute kids in the group...and at least one person might have been admiring the baby or the exceptionally beautiful little girl in the group). We were given the party room, and for the first time in their lives, our sons were allowed to run wild around a room while eating dinner out. The adults were able to have a good, long chat, unfettered with parenting children aged 3 to 7. I had forgotten what it was like to have dinner out with kids and be able to actually carry on a conversation without "MOMMY!" interruptions. Then we all trotted over to our house, where dessert was served and the garden trains were put on the track and - gasp - the children were allowed to operate them for hours!
Of course, some things that were annoying at the time, now seem funny:
Ken is always dragging his ass when we leave the house. As in, I am about ready to start driving off and leaving him again if he doesn't stop making us late for everything. Parker was about having apoplexy in his booster, waiting for Daddy to come out of the house so we could drive off! So, of course we got there a bit late, as of course we got lost (it was at different studio this time). Ken barked as we finally neared the studio "You jump out and run in with Parker!" and me, being a literal type of person, started to open my door as he slowed, popped off my seat belt and stuck a foot out the door. With that, my husband spies a close parking space. Without telling the rest of us, he decides to zip into that space. I have a sandaled foot out the door on the asphalt! I have a hand firmly grasping an open door! Parker is standing at the ready at his sliding door! So we go from nearly stopped, to a goose of the engine and a turn! WHEEEEEEEEEEE! Parker and I are screaming our heads off - Parker is hanging on for dear life to his booster and the back of Ken's seat, and I am leaning out with the open door as it swings out into thin air, and sanding off the bottom of my expensive, made-in-South-Africa-by-native-women sandals! Ken quips "Oh! Sorry - I saw this close-in space... " and I say "Okay! We're Here! Parker jump out!" and that was the end of it - I trot into the studio, smoking sandal and all, and get the traumatized child into the lineup.
Then, in our absorbed adoration of watching Parker do his routine, we do not notice that Ryan was clicking his camera, with blinding flash, at the audience! He was blinding people as their children did their routines! We discouraged that behavior, so he then decided to play with duplo blocks in a hard plastic case, which made really annoying clunks and clanks while the masters are doing the verbal portion of the tests with each child so now the parents couldn't hear their child's responses. Oy.
But mostly, it was a Magic Day. The weather was cooler and a bit cloudy. The sunset was amazing - a Maxfield Parrish kind of evening. Even the mosquitoes left off for the evening. How lucky is that?!

8 comments:

sueeeus said...

BLISS!!

And Parker's photography skills will give you something to smile about for years to come. So worth it. :)

I LOVE Maxfield Parrish. One of my faves.

nutmeg said...

That car incident could have turned out so very different - I am glad you both hung on so tight. These men and their parking spaces!

We are able to go out to lunch at a restaurant now (just the four of us so far) and have a pleasant time. We are "on the lip" of that which you describe here. I've just got to hold on a little longer ... ;-)

And the "Bad About My Neck" book was that the one by Nora Ephron? If so, I have just got it from the library today - what did you think of it?

MsCellania said...

Sueeeus - Yes! BLISSSSSS! I would have some MP hanging in this house, but Ken won't hear of it. *sigh*
Nutmeg - There is a history of Crazy Car Incidents with us. We should do a post on Men Driving Cars and the Women who Want to Kill Them. The 'Bad About my Neck' was darn good in parts. Other parts - meh. As, I'm not 65 yet and don't have the age-colored rear view mirror Ephron has.

Caro said...

It sounds like a lovely evening.

Ally stinks at taekwondo. I pulled her out. Bad Mom, I know.

Suse said...

Holy smokin' sandal, Batman! That was scary.

Congrats to Parker!!!

bec said...

Great story. The little things, the daily things, just as important.

paula said...

A wonderful memory to cherish...

My float said...

What beautiful and special children you have.

The car anecdote had me laughing so much tears rolled down my cheeks. You wrote it so beautifully that I could see it! I could smell that smoking sandal! I could hear your screams!

Hilarious.