A Wink and a Smile...AND a Hug

Today I spent my only free time at school, as well as part of the next period, auditioning middle and high school kids for the oral interpretation portion of the upcoming Regional Literary Competition. 

If you don't know me, this kind of stuff is in my wheelhouse, performing on stage from elementary through high school, directing plays for over 20 years, as well as acting in commercials here and there. When I was a kid and my friends were playing house, I was pretending to accept my Academy Award. The school has tried to wrangle me into coaching these kids for years, and for years I turned them down because I was "too busy".

Last year, one of my dear friends, who also happens to be a teacher at the school and the head the entire Literary Competition, called and made a desperate plea. Without Nelson and I as coaches, we wouldn't  be able to send any of our kids to the regionals. Lucky for her, my sons wanted desperately to participate and Nelson said yes for me.

At today's audition, Dawson went first, since as a junior, he was our veteran. He nailed it. He then sat in the back of the classroom as the other kids auditioned. This impressed me since he was the only high school boy there and I'm sure he wanted to eat lunch with his friends. The bell rang for his next class and suddenly I realized there may be an alternative motive at work.  

I asked, "Don't you need to get to class?'

"It's not mandatory," was his quick reply in front of everyone as he was throwing away his trash. 

"Umm...at the high school level, every class is mandatory," I replied in full teacher/mom mode. 

He flashed his sweet, sly grin, and looked at me from under his mop of hair. Then, the whole world stopped as he came toward me (sitting at the front of the class...in front of everyone in the room) and extended his arms towards me for a hug. I stood and embraced him as I gushed to all of the younger kids about how great my son is.

And that's the moment I clung to all day - my 17 year-old hugging me...in front of his friends. 

As I left that classroom to walk across the courtyard to the elementary building, I passed by an open classroom door and spotted Max. Still high on my hug, I stopped a moment and just stared at my 8th grader. He glanced my way and gave me a wink and a smile that melted my heart. 

These are the moments that remind me that underneath the apathy, teenage angst, and bravado are some pretty great kids with good hearts. They are fuel that feed my soul and I'm oh, so grateful for them.