My Dear, Sweet, Self-Sacrificing Eldest

Tubby is a dear sweet boy. Not quite 9 years of age, and in Grade 4. He has stuggled with mental illness recently, and continues from paedeatrician to psychiatrist to psychologist to pharmacy with amazing strength and hope that we will emerge on the other side of it all.

He had some challenges at school last year, and attempted a variety of different extra-curricular activities after school, in an attempt to find him an interest he might turn his energy and focus on. But between poor self-image, non-existant self-esteem and all the dramas of 8 year old boys, he did not show much excitement or interest in anything.

Which is why I was SO excited last night to see him rummaging through his bag for a permission slip, for an activity he was really keen to try. He dug and peered and searched and threw until he finally emerged, triumphant, with the pink slip requiring my all-important signature.

And as I read it, my heart swelled. My eldest son, in his 8 years of maturity, was as excited about this activity as he usually is about Star Wars and Captain Underpants. I rarely see permission slips from Tubby - he tends to loose them somewhere between his school locker and our front door, and I usually learn of their existance (and my failure to sign them) the day of the proposed activity, when Tubby remembers that "It's TODAY!" as he runs for the bus!

Yet this permission slip arrived home on the day it was given, in perfect flat condition with not a crease or a tear in sight. I would never have guessed that such an activity would inspire such care and concern in my son - but it did.

And so I read the form, and teared up a little with pride as I signed it.

And gave my heartfelt approval and permission for my son to travel to a local nursing home and read aloud to the residents there. Tubby is an avid reader, and I was so pleased to see him find a way to meet and share with the community whilst exploring something he enjoys so much.

After handing back the permission slip, I shared some of my feelings - my pride in him, my happiness to see my own son selflessly sharing his time and skills with others, my love for him and his choices, what a good thing it was for him to be prepared to travel the distance into town and share his reading skills with others ..................... and so on and so on!

And he listened patiently right to the end.

And blushed a little.

And grinned at me sheepishly and said : "Mum, if it gets me out of Maths on Tuesdays, I'll do ANYTHING!!"