I new almost all of the moms, many of whom are members of the MOPS group of which I belong.  I hadn’t met most of their children, nor had Dawson, because he was in preschool during MOPS meetings, so I didn’t need to use the on site childcare service.

When we arrived, Dawson was nervous.

“I don’t know any of these kids, Mom.” he told me.

I reassured him that he would have the opportunity to make new friends.  I was cheerful and excited, trying to pass on these cheery feelings onto him, by transference.  Or something.  It didn’t work.  My son was like a dryer sheet clinging to my pants.

Dawson is painfully shy.  Painfully. It takes him awhile to come out of his shell in new situations.  When he’s not familiar with the other kids or parents, he hides behind me and barely says a word to anyone but me.

I know exactly where he inherited that shy gene.  When I was his age I was the same way.  I was afraid to make new friends.  I worried I wouldn’t be liked.  I was afraid of taking a chance and introducing myself to a new friend.  I didn’t want to ask other kids to play with me, because what if they said no?  I didn’t think I could handle that type of rejection.

Because of my fears, I was labeled “the quiet child” in kindergarten. I remember my teacher, Mrs. Bickford, telling my mother that I was smart and kind, but I was very shy and very quiet and that I was “a pleasure to have in class.” Mrs. Bickford also told my mother she wanted me to be more confident and to engage with the other kids more often.

I tried my best to be outwardly friendly and to do as my teacher instructed, and slowly I became less quiet and more talkative, but I never lost that shyness.  It was still there, tucked away when I needed it.  I used it mostly to protect myself if wasn’t sure of a new situation.

Now that I’m a mother, I understand how Dawson feels because I’ve experienced it.  It’s a defense mechanism.  Even now, at 30 years old, I still have moments when I’m quiet and reserved.  I have to make an effort to be more outgoing.  That very quiet girl is still inside me.  I still have days when I’m afraid to put myself out there because I fear rejection.  I don’t think that will ever change.

I used to worry about Dawson’s shyness.  I sometimes felt like I was to blame.  Maybe I was too protective of him when he was younger.  Maybe my parenting decisions made him too sensitive.  Maybe I was too smothering and didn’t give him enough space to figure things out on his own.

Did I not give him enough opportunities to play with other kids, I wondered.  But then I realized that isn’t true either.  Dawson has been in daycare since I went back to work.  He was six weeks old.  He’s had plenty of playtime with other kids his age.  Even when I began working from home, I kept him in daycare a few hours a day for 2 or 3 days a week.

He finished his first year of preschool in May.   His teacher told me that he is shy and that this is normal from his age.  Once he is in kindergarten, she said, he’ll become more comfortable with the school routine and he’ll make friends.  She told me not to worry and encouraged me to enroll him in 4K so that he can continue to develop his social skills.  I believe she’s right.  She’s been teaching 3- and 4-year-olds for many years.  I trust her advice and experience.

After half and hour at playgroup, Dawson recognized one of his friends from preschool.  One of the moms in our group runs an at-home daycare, and Joshua was one of her charges.

“Mom, I see Joshua over there,” he told me.

“Why don’t you go say hello?”

He shook his head and said he was scared.  I told him he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do, and you know what?  Less than a minute later he went right up to his friend, who was on the swing, and said, “‘Why don’t you jump off of there so we can play?”

I nearly tipped over.  I had never seen my son display that much confidence before.  Half and hour ago he was hugging my leg, and suddenly he was taking a risk.  He put himself out there.

I never felt more proud in my life.  I’m glad I didn’t push him or force him to do something he wasn’t yet comfortable with.  I learned a valuable lesson, that encouragement is better than pushing our children into situations they’re not ready to deal with.

When Joshua literally jumped off the swing and began running around the park with Dawson I was beaming.  They chased the girls and the began a game of tag. A little while later the boys went over to the baseball field and ran around the bases.  I began to relax and talked with the other moms for awhile.

When I looked over at the field a little while later, Dawson was sitting on the grass in the infield all by himself.  My heart sank and I went over to ask him what was wrong.  I was worried that he was feeling insecure or that his friend, who playing with another little boy, had rejected him.

“Dawson, what’s the matter?” I asked.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Mom.  My body just needs a rest.”

I smiled to myself and told that protective voice in my head to shut up.  When it was time to leave the park an hour later, Dawson begged to stay longer and play.  Since all the other moms and kids were leaving, I told him we’d definitely attend the next playgroup which is next week.  He was thrilled and so was I.  My little boy is growing up, I thought.  It’s amazing!  I’m so proud of him!

…and he didn’t even cry.

I did.

I sobbed, and sobbed.

I don’t even know why.

My baby is not a baby anymore.

Why can’t he stay little for awhile longer?