Raise Them, you say…

My sweet love,

You my dear girl are perfect. (I hope every parent feels this feel.) Everyone adores your company, your smarts, your appropriate sass, and your compassion. You my sweet girl radiate kindness.

We don’t know the appropriate next steps… we don’t know what to do. Academically you are a rockstar, and every project you touch you persevere through. You have unbelievable tenacity and grit. (Things I have studied.) At a whole nine years old you hold more of these traits than most grownups I know….

And you are so like me. A bad day ruins you. You don’t know why they throw mud, because you only see it as a super poor choice…. and you don’t comprehend why people make super poor choices. You don’t understand when your peers do not value their work. You get super frustrated when an adult treats you like a child. You were born late, and looked a month old on your birth day. You were born wise beyond your years.

And as your mama I have to decide what to do with all of your awesomeness. It breaks my heart when your peers treat you like crap. It breaks my heart further that you are already exhausted of the “boys will be boys” rhetoric. It breaks my heart that you already know that phrase… and could file it under “restless energy.” No one deserves mud throwing… not even if it’s restless energy. No one should ever be called stupid. It’s not language we use. You know this.

You are angry. You are mad that we hold you to the highest standards… that “restless energy” will never be an excuse for a poor choice for you… because I wouldn’t allow it. You know this.

So now we have to figure out our next steps. I’m tempted to follow your lead, sweet girl.

You had a bad day. They threw mud, and said unkind words…. and you don’t even understand why anyone would do these things…. because you legit think mud is poor flying material.

I love you. You are amazing. We will figure this out. I promise.

– Mama

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