What I Learned From Circus Camp

Anyone who knows anything about me knows how much I despise the circus and, more specifically, clowns. So imagine my horror when Alex informed me that he wanted to go to....wait for it...Circus Camp. (Yes, there really is such a thing.)

Of course, as any good mother would do, I begged him not to go. He stood strong, though, and I was reminded of a very valuable lesson. That is, that even though I gave birth to these kids, have raised them, pay A LOT of money for them and want them to stay little forever, each day they are growing into their own little people. They have their own likes and dislikes, interests and dreams.

I remember what that felt like--spreading your wings and finding your passion. My mom and dad stood by as I tested the waters with soccer, softball, water polo, dance, art class, theater and singing among many other activities. And I very clearly remember what it feels like to have your mom say that the story you wrote about a waffleiron that attacked a kid at breakfast was brilliant.

"Your going to be a great writer one day," she would say every time I brought her my latest story. She believed it, so I believed it.

So that is why I begrudgingly wrote the check. This isn't about me. It's about Alex finding his way. Alex, my shy one, my worrier. The boy who hates trying new things and meeting new people. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. After all, what better way to step outside your comfort zone than to learn to plant a pie in someone's face. Yep, sometimes being a mom means stepping back and watching your kids find their own way--even if that path takes them to Circus Camp.