Welcome To the Sorority

The Ambassador has been going to music class since he was a hair over five months old. We spent the last couple of years of class with him clinging to my legs, dancing in my arms and staring silently in awe while other kids -- usually the older ones -- danced and sang along with the teacher. The Ambassador is not shy. He's reserved and contemplative. He is thought-filled and observant. But he is not shy.

Today, The Ambassador took an entirely different approach to music class. He sang every song he knew and danced like Jennifer Beals. He handed out instruments to the younger kids who couldn't or wouldn't get them for themselves. He helped the teacher put away instruments and, at the end of class, roll up the rugs. He even came to me when I called him away from the picture windows and gave me a hug on cue during the "goodbye" song. Melt, melt, melt went my heart and the heart of every mother in that room.

After class, a lovely young mom overheard me telling The Ambassador we were heading home for lunch. She turned to me and asked, "Does he ever get picky? Or fall into food ruts that you just can't seem to break?" I smiled, nodded emphatically, then asked her how old her son was. "16 months. Is yours two? He just seems to understand so much and listen so well," she replied.

I wanted to sit her down right there in the lobby of the dance studio and tell her all about picky eaters. I wanted to explain to her that the only thing you can do most days is breathe deeply and let it slide, that not eating vegetables at every meal (or even one some days) isn't the end of the world. I wanted to tell her that the more they seem to understand, the less they seem to listen and vice versa. Most of all, I wanted to give her a big hug and welcome her to the Worry Club, the Sleepless Sorority, and the Will-These-Circles-Under-My-Eyes-EVER-Go-Away Council. I'll probably just invite her over for a playdate instead, but the sentiment is the same.

There is a kinship in motherhood that I have never found equaled by any other experience. Dog owners don't have it. Teammates, whether they win or lose, never quite get there. Maybe Red Sox fans feel it, but since I'm not one, I'll never be certain. But I have never seen a group of people more willing to reach across boundaries of class, religion and age like mothers. It's a wonderful thing. Particularly since I suspect that without the sorority, we would all be insane.