Aselin

Not many years ago, Unnamed Child #1 suffered from a crippling fear of public speaking, being around people and just plain being noticed. When I say crippling, I mean crippling. Not average shyness which all of us suffer from in one degree or another, but complete, shutting down, running away, crying, hiding and breathing into a paper bag crippling.

As a parent it was pretty hard to watch. Coming home from school sobbing because someone looked at her, or trying to get her to participate in average activities like school pictures was an endeavor that required Donald Trump and his 'Art of the Deal' to negotiate. Usually we achieved success, but not without significant effort.

Yesterday was Martin Luther King day, another holiday that sounded good on paper but in reality is just another day off school. So there I am with my three kids in our morning standoff. Unnamed Child #3 "What am I going to doooooooooooo today?" "I'm soooooooooooo bored!" I am of the renegade opinion that it is not my job to entertain these people. They have food, shelter and the occasional pat on the head, so what more could they need from me?

As I'm working on my very important mom-stuff, each child would come in to report on the progression of their chores and social plans. So and so wasn't home. Did they have to put away ALL of the breakfast food? and If it was a holiday did they really have to practice piano? Standard negotiations. For the most of the morning Unnamed child #1 slept.

Suddenly my important mom-stuff was interrupted by the Cheshire Cat grin of Unnamed Child #1. "Mom, all of my chores are done." She then proceeded to tell me the activities she had organized for her posse. I nodded and she skipped out.

Ten minutes later she returned to report how the plans had changed and now they were going to Plan B.

Over the next two hours we made it to Plan Q, and finally she left the house to play football with a number of other adolescents.

Fast forward to 8:30 p.m. I'm sitting outside the home where she and eight hundred of her closest friends ended up. The front door to the home opens up and like some sort of swamp-monster-from-the-South she sloshes out in her shoes, jeans, long-sleeved shirt, stringy hair - all drenched. Leaving a trail of soggy footprints leading up to the car she opens the door looking like a wet rat sporting the same Cheshire Cat grin from earlier.

"Mooooooooom! It was soooooooooo fun. Maybe the best day of my entire life, oh, can I get in the car wet?" as she slides into the passenger seat.

"What happened to you? It's freezing outside!" I'm really not concerned for her welfare, rather the welfare of my car, but I had to pretend.

Somehow, the shy little girl from years gone by was jumping off who knows what, getting people to take turns following her into the unheated pool, all clad in her winter ensemble. Girls, boys, pets - everyone was following her lead. I can only suspect she's been banned from returning to this home ever again.

The entire ride home she reported on the events of the day, most of which she choreographed. According to the details, she's overcome her fear of having people notice her.

Guess my work is done.