Missing the action

My eldest son came first in the front crawl at the local swimming gala. He came second in his heat, so the stage was set for a dramatic final. They all started incredibly strongly, but after the half way point, my big boy started to pull ahead. He remembered everything he had been taught, his breathing was right, his stroke crisp, he didn't look around, he just swam the race of his life. And when he touched the side his supporters went wild. It was amazing.

The only problem was that I wasn't there to see it.

I was at home with the baby. And, although I had wanted to go and surprise him by turning up at the gala, with one thing and another I didn't make it. It was my son's weekend to stay with his dad, so he didn't expect me and I spoke to him before, during and after. I even watched the video of the incredible race, but it has still left me feeling pretty devastated.

After a divorce there will be times when one or other of you will miss milestones. In fact, even if you are together, you will still miss things, whether you are working or looking after other children or even if you have just decided you need some time to yourself, it is just a fact of life. I can be as objective as you like, but my heart still sinks when I think about it. My big boy has no idea how I feel of course, but, it has given me that bad mother feeling I haven't had since I first dropped him off at nursery.

His dad has missed another moment of sporting history, when our son scored his first goal for his football club. He had hit a streak of brilliance - the little star was so stunned by the enormity of it all he just sat in the dressing room afterwards staring at his boots. Now I understand how his dad must have felt.

It's a couple of days since the swimming gala now - I no longer think the world will end or that I will be scarred for life by missing the race or that I will now have to attend every single event that the big boy will ever take part in ever again. I didn't quite reach Norma Desmond levels of drama queening, but it has made me think.

I know I will miss other big events. In fact, I hope to goodness I miss some of them (first kiss, etc), but I will treasure the ones I see all the more. And I will make sure if his dad, my partner, his granny or grandpa, our next door neighbour or even the window cleaner can see them, they do.
I wonder if I will turn into a super clingy mum and that he won't even be able to play on the play station without a mummy sized cheerleader looking over his shoulder. But he is my superstar and I am prouder than I ever thought possible. And I will cry every time I watch the race again - which is filmed in wobblyvision as his dad gets more and more hysterical.

Now, when is the next Olympics?