Life Has No Script

Ok, so duh.  Life has no script.  But I'm the type of person who would LOVE it if there were a script.  In fact I try to make life have a script... well my life, anyway.  I try to think through 'how everything will go.'  Who will say what, who should say what back to them, where somebody will go when, and how it will all look like.  Did you know I basically scripted our whole wedding ceremony?  And I guess I scared our preacher into not deviating from the script because boy, he sure didn't.  (Hi David if you're reading this!)


I like to know what's going to happen next.  I like to have imagined all the answers, all the possibilities and planned for them.  And in the end, I want everybody to be happy with themselves and with each other.  Which usually requires a script because otherwise, real life happens and that gets icky.


So the past few weeks have been a challenge for me.  A lot happened in a short time period and I didn't have time to script it all.  I had to - yikes - go with the flow.  It started with a big conference at work, put on by yours truly.  It was the most scripted of all.....  but once the clock struck 8 and we kicked it off, it still felt like walking a tightrope without a safety net.  And though the evaluations were positive, I still feel 'eh' about it, wondering if everybody was truly happy with the day?


Then Ivy's birthday part(ies) and recital weekend extravaganza.  We put up the bounce house, got some food, invited people and - bam - let it just happen.  Without an agenda.  I was totally uncomfortable.  But the reviews were good!  Yay?  Then came the recital and family visits. None of which was scripted...  anything could happen!  People could say or do things that might hurt each other - oh no!


Enter anxiety.


But rest assured this is a personal problem.  I've been pretty very good at not scripting life for my kids.  At not scheduling everything or being a controlling, helicopter parent, worried about the impact of the least little unanticipated disappointment on their precious molding minds.  And I'm starting to learn to let go of control by watching them.  Little by little.


My kids are teaching me how to grow.


On the first day of Ivy's recital during her ballet performance, Ivy totally went off script, got confused and ran off the stage in the middle of the performance, followed by 2 other girls.  (This is the kind of thing that would have terrified me and kept me up all the night before, worrying about the mere potentiality of doing this on stage.)  But they got it together, were ushered back on stage.  Totally unscathed.


And you know what?  Everybody was ok.  And that unscripted part was the most precious.