Star

Just got back from seeing my son in the school Christmas play. He was great, I know that all parents feel indulgent at this time of year, but he truly was wonderful. It's not just my obvious love and bias; the people behind me were talking about him and looked in the programme to find his name, and at the end, he was given a huge bar of chocolate by the woman who wrote the poem that he spoke.
I'm writing this here partly in the hope that at some point he might read this blog, and in turn know that my love and pride are more than just fleeting words. It's written here in indelible cyber-space for all hyper time, well done Oz you were a star.
Knowing that he might read this, it occurs to me that perhaps I should not continue with what I was about to say. Time to change track.
Or perhaps not - should we hide what we really think and feel from our family?
In a strange way the very thought of wanting to censor myself brings me full circle.
Watching him up there on stage, I know that he's got a real gift for Drama: clear expressive voice, cute smile, not to mention the freckles, but most of all he was so clearly enjoying it. I've always wanted to encourage him into theatre because I loved it, but didn't, as I didn't want to be the kind of mother who pushed a child into something that I always wanted to do. But, now he's found this by and for himself. He so wanted a part and put everything into the audition. He got such positive feedback from everyone; I know he's dead chuffed to be 'good' at it. How he memorised such a long poem in such a short space of time I don't know, but all respect to him. So if he wants to find a drama class and explore it further, then I'm right behind him.
Which is where I was going, wondering why I had such negative feedback as a child about something that I loved to do so much. The 'advice' to me, was that drama was something that I could do if I failed academically and writing was something that I could do in my spare time. Those were my biggest passions for years. But always as a Side-Show-Bob.
I've always felt that this blog should not become an emotional diatribe, but right here right now its bugging the hell out of me. I won't go into specifics; I'm sure that will only make me cringe in a few days time. But - what is it with family? Why the need to niggle, put down and criticise. I guess me getting on with the writing might present a 'certain' threat or jealousy. But the bigger picture is that in finally taking the plunge, I'm happier than I've ever been.
Writing came before the love of acting. From as early as I can rememember, the characters in the books I read were as real, if not more so, to me as any person around me, and I was always writing stories in secret little note pads. I won a competition when I was nine. I'm still quite proud of the stuff I wrote as a child, there is a certain quality to it that I see even now. So why it took me thirty six years to get to this point I really don't know. Lack of confidence I guess, a permanent feeling of never quite being good enough.
So, as this is my blog, I suppose there is the space for me to use it in a wholly indulgent way, just to pick myself up and start over again. Back on track. We always look for parental approval on some level, no matter how old we are. It's the biggest dent to receive those little chips and scratches time and time again in the same place - your internal body work errodes and corrodes. I love writing, I always have and there's no palce in my life now for external crushes to confidence.
I want my son to grow up and look at his Mum doing something that she loves, something that she's good at. I'll do the same for him, after all isn't that the biggest thing that I can do as a parent; just allow him to be who he is, not who I might like to think that he may be. I love that he loves maths and computers, because I don't 'get' them. I also love that he's finding a love for drama, it gives us a common territory. That's not any kind of threat, just a pleasure.
Oz, no matter what talents you may choose to pursue in your life, I love you.
You are a star.