My mind is frayed. I
swipe my badge to clock out, sprint across the parking lot of work, and jump in
my car. I’m about to turn the key in my
ignition when my phone buzzes. I know
before I take it out of my pocket who it is.
I pull my phone out and see the name.
Hannah. The message reads,
“Hey”. I smile because I know she has so
much to tell me about her day, and the “hey” is merely to see if I can take her
call. I’m not in a late meeting baby girl… I think to myself. I slide my finger across the screen and skip
texting back. I just go ahead and make
the voice call. A sweet little voice
comes over the phone, “Hey mama. How was
your day?” “Super boring!” I answer back
in an exaggerated tone, which makes her laugh.
“Did anybody get mad at you?” I
smile knowing that she listens to her Dad and I talk too closely. “Just a few crabby people, but you know the
computers drive people nuts.” I assure her.
She giggles because it baffles her that computers could be difficult for
anyone. She has been using them since
she was a toddler. The tech generation,
I guess. I’m on my way out of the parking lot, and I go ahead and ask the
question, that I know will not receive such a simple answer. “So how was your day?” The floodgates open. We go period-by-period, first through eight,
and talk about her day.
As she begins explaining all of her day I think to myself, You’re doing great. I’m beginning to
feel like the only parent who remembers puberty and middle school. It was pretty atrocious. I mean if we just count the hormone shifts
alone, it can easily be counted as one of the most confusing period of one’s
life. I listen to her first
catastrophe. One of her teachers said
she didn’t turn in an assignment. She
knew she had. She was just about to have
a complete “anxiety attack” when she found it.
It literally took her all class period to calm back down. I smile. You’re
so smart and responsible baby girl. If
you miss one assignment, it’s no reason to have a panic attack… The thought
rolls through my head, and I decide to share it with her. “You know honey. You aren’t perfect. You will miss assignments. You will do things you want to kick yourself
for, but it’s not the end of the world.
It will remind you to be more aware and keep up with things better in
the future. She pauses, “Well, I still
panicked, mom. I mean I can’t just miss assignments! I’ll get bad grades.” I smile and laugh. “I know honey, but you
always turn your work in. I really don’t
think you are going to start just not doing your work.” She agrees and we move on.
The conversation shifts to the social aspect of her
day. “Let me tell you what this girl
said to me today!” She goes into great dramatic detail about how a girl she
once considered a friend has now made it a personal mission to make her life
miserable. “She just goes out of her way
to be mean to me! I don’t get it. I’m not going to just sit around and let her
keep being this way toward me. Do you
think I should? I’m going to just tell
her we aren’t friends anymore?” I
pause for a moment because the mom in me momentarily wants to assume the best
of my daughter and make her out to be a complete victim in my head. But, I am a realist and I’m sure she is not
100% innocent in whatever spat has come about with this little girl. I then remind myself how absolutely normal
and even healthy it is for girls her age to figure relationships out, to a
certain extent. There is no bullying or
physical fighting, so to me it’s all perfectly normal. You are
learning how to manage relationships sweetie.
It stinks, but not everyone is nice.
Not everyone you consider a friend, is truly a friend. So I offer my two cents. “Hannah, are you asking me if you should
confront this person and tell them you are no longer their friend?” I ask. “She pauses considering my tone, I
suppose. “Well, yes. I mean I am just over it and I want to tell
her.” She replies slightly defensive of her position. “Well, first I am not you. You are your own person and you are going to
do what you decide, but my advice is to not do that. Let me just ask you this, what are you hoping
that conversation will accomplish?” She
thinks it over, “I don’t know, mom. My
feelings are hurt…” I cut her off, “ …And you want to hurt hers back?” She
immediately responds, “No! I do not. I
stay quiet for a minute and let her ponder it.
“Honey. I can’t imagine what else
this would accomplish. You can distance
yourself, and create boundaries. If she
is rude to you, let her know that she can’t talk ugly to you and expect you to
want to be around her. But be kind. You have no idea what is going on in this
person’s life. Sometimes you take your
home life for granted. Not everyone has
a peaceful happy secure home, like you.
They are fighting battles you know nothing about. I share some of my childhood to drive the
point home. I’m trying to help her
associate the feelings of love and protectiveness she has with me to this
little girl. Her tone lightens and she
adds, “ Plus, I represent God. He would
show love. I smile into the phone about
to pull onto her grandpa’s street. That’s it kiddo. You see what is right. You’re heart feels what is right…listen to
it. You will lose your temper. You will say things you regret, but you can
try to be the best person you can be.
I pull into the
driveway. She comes out of the door with
her heavy book bag on her shoulder, her lunchbox in one hand and her flute in
the other. I’m certain she has a
mountain of homework, and wants to practice her flute. She will have to eat, study, practice, and
generally keep going until bedtime. I know you are tired sweet girl, but you are
learning about dedication and commitment.
You are learning that If you want something in life it will never be
handed to you. She climbs in my car,
and shuts the door. We start to back
out. “Do you have a lot of
homework?” Yes, but two of the subjects
are pretty short, and my other one is kind of interesting. I’m looking forward to it.” She says in a serious tone. I smile.
“Well, that is good I suppose.”
You need to do the dishes when we get home, ok. I momentarily consider doing them for her,
but change my mind. Dishes are her chore
and she needs to learn that the money we give her is only ours because we work
for it. She needs to have the feeling of
accomplishment that comes when she is paid $20.00 on Friday for a job well done
all week. “Okay.” she says as she moves
on to another topic, continuing our phone conversation. She continues to talk non-stop until we
arrive home. She stops doing dishes
approximately 1,000 times as she recalls yet one more thing she has to tell me
about, while I maneuver around her in our tiny kitchen to cook.
Her Dad walks in the door, and we are happy to see him. We ask how his day is, and he says,
“Fine.” He asks me how my day was, and I
give my standard uneventful answer. He
turns to Hannah, and asks her. The
conversation starts all over again, but something wonderful happens. She talks to him with new perspective. Perspective I’ve offered earlier. She is more confident about the weaknesses
she has discovered about herself on this day, and more sure about the decisions
she has made. We pray over our dinner
and she continues to talk. Oh how she
talks. Her Dad and I nod and interject
when we can. I sit and think this is amazing. Being your mom is amazing. You are a beautiful ball of imperfections
figuring out this crazy thing called life.
To my daughter:
You are doing great kiddo.
Life is complex and confusing. As
you grow you will realize that things and even people aren’t what you assumed
they were. Sometimes that will
disappoint you, but sometimes it will delight you. You make me proud everyday, even during times
when you feel like a complete failure.
So many times I just want to tell you what to do, but I know that you
have to figure this all out on your own, with my motherly advice of
course. The good thing about you is that
you are harder on yourself than Dad and I could ever be. You have a kind heart and a sweet
spirit. Don’t be so hard on
yourself. Life is never about
perfection, but about learning how to use your imperfections to improve
yourself and inspire others. You are
covered in God’s grace and love. I know
he has great plans for you. Everyday you
grow and mature. My heart breaks a
little, because you are my baby, but mostly it is just filled with pride at the
remarkable human being you are becoming.
I hope, if nothing else, Dad and I show you the importance of a genuine
and real life. Celebrate being human.
Embrace the imperfections, because it reminds you daily why you need God in
your heart.
Love Mom
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