my life with 3 Princesses

Down and up May 18, 2010

Today was a day signed by many different and contrasting emotions.

Sadness.  I cried this morning.  Could easily have cried my eyes out had I not gripped my self on time.

Pride.  I watched TC announce her class’s song during her school’s celebration concert.

Amazement.  At TP who sang her heart out and danced happily away with her class mates during her concert.

Panic.  To make sure there was going to be dinner (a healthy one) on the table in between going to my princesses’ school no less than 3 times (at 9 for TC’s concert, at 11 for TP”s one and again at 2 to pick them up – each age group is too numberous, the hall too small to hold more than two invites for each child of each age group).

Happiness.  At meeting up with an old friend who has since we last met moved to Ireland, and had two girls the same age as TP and TC. 

Wonder.  At seeing my girls and my friend’s enjoying themselves dressing each other up.

But it’s about my sadness that I’d like to write today.

Try to picture this:

the school’s stage – about 12, 3 year olds standing up in a line next to each other facing the audience singing at the top of their voice “Wind the bobbin up”.  Then to the left, next to the standing children, sit two children with a Learning Support Assistant – she is banging on a tambourine – the two children are looking everywhere and no where.  I fight the first tear. I find a seat for myself at the back of the school hall. I settle down.  And see next to me an older girls in what looked like a very complicated wheelchair – next to her another Learning Support Assistant writing on what look ed like a copybook. And I simply broke down. 

I cried with the mothers of the two children sitting on stage, whose hearts must contract every time they look at their children who are not able to stand in line with the others.

I cried with shame at how enormous I see my problems when in reality they are minute in comparison.

I cried with a doubt so deep that I started wondering if maybe the inclusion policy of the Education Division of this country has missed the point entirely.  Why wasn’t that older girl with her class?

Then I told myself that I had to stop making a show of myself and let the happy voices, poems and movements songs fill my mind.

As my emotionally busy day proceeded,  I repeatedly thanked God for our general good health and for giving me so much. As I do now, at its end.