Jeremy and I took Jack to his first-ever soccer class today. It was geared very much toward to the toddler set - lots of games that employed running, jumping and kicking the soccer ball. And....Jack was very much not into it when we first arrived. He refused to wear his team shirt and was generally overwhelmed by the large fieldhouse (six classes were running concurrently). Jeremy comforted him as Jack broke down into tears - it was just too much. I intervened - probably at the wrong time - and Jack still wasn't having it.
Then the "coach" told the kids to line up on one side for a silly run. They were to run - as silly as possible - and then freeze when he said freeze. I jumped in again, giving Jeremy a break, and grabbed both of Jack's hands. He went from crying to uncontrollably giggling as we started our silly run/waltz around the field, hand-in-hand. He threw his head back and laughed with his whole body. When we had to freeze, I knelt down to him and he put his cheek next to mine and stood very still. Then we started our dance again, running and waving our arms. Later, I thought about how mortified Jack would have been of me, acting silly with him, if he was 8-10 years older, but today, I could do no wrong. After the run, something changed and he was into the class, actually listening to the coach and leaving Jeremy and me in the dust.
My son and I will do many dances in our life - literally and figuratively - as we try to figure each other out. I just hope at least a few are cheek-to-cheek.