I was... What was I? Excited for him, certainly. I KNEW he was going to have the time of his life, knew this was the confidence boost he needed after what has been an up and down year. I was proud. Proud, that he had the confidence to do this at his age, proud of how grown up he looked and how he was taking it all in his stride. And terrified! Yes, there is no point in hiding it. I was terrified. Despite the fact he was flying as an accompanied minor and had all the support in place I was still on the manic side of nervous. And I knew that until that text came through from the other side of the pond, saying " I have my hands on your boy!" I would remain terrified. This was my baby, already to take another giant step forward into the big wide world. There was no way I could or even wanted to stop him but I can't help the fact that my very body and being found this hard to handle.
Three days later and he is there, having what my late grandparents would have called
'a rare old beano!' Emails, texts, phones calls show me that he is being throughly spoilt and I feel nothing but pleasure, relief, security and gratitude. Ask me later in the week when he is flying back and it might be a different story, but for as far as Moget number 1 is concerned life, is at this moment, rosy.
And yet it has suddenly dawned on me that in a years time, Moglet number 2 will be the same age. And no doubt he will be wanting to take the same adventure. In fact he has already made his intentions quite clear. Making the giant assumption on my part that our generous family are willing to undertake this experience again, Moglet number 2 wants to fly, alone to New York, just like his brother.
So how do you feel about that Moglet Mummy? Excuse me for a moment, my heart has just stopped. The thought has made me weak. On paper everything screams 'Stop!'. The organisational difficulties for a kick off! I mean, his passport! What will we do about his passport, sewing it into his underwear like they did in the war is going to pull some very funny looks when he has to present it at security! But if he lost it...?
And sitting still, on a plane for hours. And sleep!? How will we ever get that right?
I could list all the issues forever and a day. I could paint in broad and damning brush strokes all the reasons why we could veto this. But the truth is they are my issues, not Moglet number 2 's. The truth is HE wants to do this. And that, for us, is more than half the battle. We have at least a year to make our plans, to practise our skills and to build our confidence. We can learn from other people. Thank goodness for big brothers and first born sons who blaze the trail and show us what we can achieve! There are practical solutions to every single problem I can think of. Some of them easy to put in place, some of them will be skills that will need to be taught and crafted. This is a goal and we all, Moglet Number 2 included, have to take responsibility for achieving it. Will it be easy? No, probably not. Very few things that truly matter in life are, but, if we pull it off the rewards will be amazing. Not just a fantastic trip and some wonderful memories, but long-lasting, door opening life skills, things that will take Moglet number 2 nearer to his hopes and dreams.
And so if the very generous offer is extended to my beautiful Moglet Number 2, we as a family will do everything we can to make it happen. It is a hard lesson that I keep on learning; dyspraxia will not control us. We may bend, we may make allowances and adjustments, we may take a slightly different, more supported path at times but we will not let it take away our dreams and opportunities.