Last week was homecoming. A thousand ways to celebrate your school, and in my eyes, he hardly wanted to be a part of it. I borrowed two minutes of his time and asked if he needed any supplies for spirit week, and he looked at me blankly and said nope. Perhaps my own eyes looked back equally blank, but my heart had plenty to say. And some of it spilled right out in a mess of disappointment. I want to document each activity, and it seems, at least every other breath... Somehow I thought that these few days of high school fun were owed to me, but the reality is, these days are his, and he has every right to celebrate them in his own way.
It turns out that he did have some ideas... taking on royalty in his quirky way, and being the character he is. Early mornings had him at school working on the homecoming carts for the bazillion clubs he belongs to, and evenings were full of band practice, polishing up the new show additions. He enjoyed the week, the way he wanted to. And I was thankful for any and all of it.
I'm hoping he might go to the homecoming dance next year... and if I can get one prom out him I'll be thrilled... but I need to keep in mind that he knows who he is, and what is important to him. And though I think he can feel the time is ticking away, it might tick slower for the one with piles of homework. So we'll try to take it one day at a time for now... and I will try to keep my heart in check.