Connections

A few days ago, a favorite blog of mine posted this video and wrote about how we seem to be able to forge connections with complete strangers and yet not know our neighbor next door.



Obviously, I loved it or I wouldn't be sharing it with you here.

As the music's tempo increased and locales started going by faster, I was excited to see where he would dance next and I even got misty eyed from a couple of different locations that I have an emotional connection to myself. It made me smile, laugh, cry, and think. I identified with the question posed and thought about it off and on for the rest of the week- until Friday.

That's when I saw something that made me appreciate the connections we make a little differently.

First, I have to explain something so you will understand my appreciation.

My eldest child is sensitive. You know the characteristic you hope you won't pass on to any off your offspring, well he got the double whammy. My tendency to worry and Richard's relationship with anxiety fell squarely on his shoulder's.

We realized the depth of his sensitvity a couple of years ago when he started 3rd grade. It was his second year in this school since we had moved back to the states from Canada. He had done really well getting settled and making friends his first year, so we didn't anticipate any problems the following year. The first week went fine.

Then the dam broke.

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. Panic attacks started and so did the inconsolable crying. Going to school was out of the question. He would beg me not to go, but after some coaxing I would get him there only to end up leaving with him in tears. We finally got that the heart of the problem was that there was nobody he knew in his class.

No connections.

He was the only boy from his previous class that had been placed in his current one and of course, the girls he knew still had cooties. His problem all boiled down to this; it was hard enough to be the new kid and have to make friends one year, let alone two in a row.

The only way to solve the problem though was to go to school. And he did. And eventually he made friends. Things were better, he wanted me to walk him to class each day and would give me the "please, don't leave me here look", but at least he went.

There was a difference in him though. He was more particular about what he did, what he wore, and he became really concerned about what people thought about him. He didn't want to do or wear anything that might cause him to lose the friends and connections he had made. It intensified last year after a bully stopped a soccer game he was playing in to make fun of him.

The boy who used to love to dance in the kitchen with me to Elton John's "Crocodile Rock" won't even dance with me anymore.

That is why I was so surprised and delighted to be able to film my own little 'Dance' video on Friday morning following the Fun Run at the school.

I was only able to get 15 seconds of it- I wish I could have gotten more, but I will take what I could get. Just look at my boy "shaking his thang" with all of his friends (I like to think he gets his moves from me), but better yet... think of the connections he has made to make him feel comfortable enough to do it in public!

The good it did this mother's heart, who has the propensity to worry, was great. And perhaps, it is time I give "Crocodile Rock" a rest... it looks like I have a new dance to learn.