Success

The blogging group I joined has challenged me to write about success. Snort. Game on, people!

Truth be told, I am a mainstream-society-kind-of-person. Growing up, I let magazines tell me what was in style. I listened to the American Top 40 to dictate the popular songs. I worried about looking the "right" way and saying the "right" things.

To succeed at these things meant ultimate success and popularity in life, right?

Yeah, I know. Pretty stupid notion. Reality of that hit like a slap in the face; however, there is still a part of me that wishes it. And, admit it, you wish it, too. Parents: how many of you bragged to your playgroup that your child was already walking/talking/reciting Chaucer at an advanced age? Which of you is guilty of bragging about your ballerina prodigy, your future martial arts black belt or spelling champion?

I think we are all guilty of defining our self worth by the standards of society. I was okay to play that game until I became a parent.

"Look at Cody! He is sitting up, and he isn't even six months old!" I remember hearing in one of many playgroups when our older son was young.

"Our son is also!" I would say, happy to see him succeed at this milestone. Sure, he was bent over a bit. And, yes, his tongue is always sticking out and there is a lot of drool, but, hey, this is HIS version of success. It's just as good, right? RIGHT????

Wrong.

"Your son looks tired or something," that mom said. "He isn't sitting up correctly."

What, so there is a proper way for a baby to sit these days?

As it turns out, yes. There is a proper way to sit, to crawl, to walk, to eat, to run, to talk, to interact, and, my friends, our son did not do these on the same schedule as typical kids do. Therefore, he did not succeed. I felt every defeat deep into my heart.

How can anyone look into the eyes of either of my children and say that they are failures?

Of course, they don't. They look to me, the mother, and say it.

For a mother, that is one of the most hurtful things one can say. And, yet, it is something which I am forced to absorb every day. Every day I am reminded that my children are deemed UNSUCCESSFUL because they learn differently, and on a different timetable and by different methods.

For the sake of our boys, I can easily shun the criticisms of society. However, there is always that part of me, that young teen who was an avid follower of society, who cringes at the realization that my family lives on the outskirts of what is acceptable by society.

We have had to define our own success. When our older son learned to use utensils, believe me, that was a success! When his brother was finally able to supinate his left hand, yes, that sure was a success for us!

Our successes are won inch by inch, day by day. It may not be appreciated by the upturned noses of the mainstream society I coveted in my younger years, but that's ok. We celebrate them in our home with the hopes of building self- secure young men in whatever their abilities may be.

Darn it. My children sure have a way of forcing me out of my comfort zone. What I find, though, is that, in the end, I am much better for it.