Thursday, August 11, 2016

The Worst Mom Ever, 9 years in a row.





Today we picked up the #tweenager 7th grade schedule.  In our school, there are two teams.  Neither of the teams are better or worse than the other; I assume they divide them up so the teachers are not overwhelmed by the amount of kids.  My daughter spent the whole summer dreaming about team A.  She just knew that team A was where it is at.  She looked forward to chatting it up with her friends in Pre-Algebra, hanging out in the hall during passing period and eating lunch at the 7th grade table.  When we reached the end of the “prove your residence, shot record, and buy the agenda” line we picked up the coveted schedule.  When she read the team name at the top her eyes immediately filled with tears.  Most of her friends had already gotten their schedules and of those that had picked them up, they already knew they were on the other team.  Que the meltdown.  

I have said since they were tiny that “I am not raising children who like me, rather I am raising adults others will want to be around.”  The jury is still out as to whether that statement will ring true but I do have a few reasons why I will not fix this situation for her.  Sure, I have the ability to call the school and give them a piece of my mind, name drop, and word vomit all the reasons she needs to be on Team A but I am choosing not to.  Why?  Well, here in the real world it is not that easy at all.  (It is ok if you sing that last sentence and pretend you are Alan Jackson.) 

I remember when they were babies and they were toddling around and would fall.  Most of the time if I under reacted and paid no attention to the scene they would pop right back up and be on their way.  I find that if I do not come running every time they fall down eventually they learn how to walk.  Imagine that!  There was no way I could pad every corner and prevent every fall; eventually they had to learn to do things for themselves.  Choosing to let her experience this stumble does not make me a mean mom.  In fact I kind of think it makes me a decent mom who her future employer, college professor and husband my thank me for.  She must build skills to cope with life because it only gets harder. (Trust me child, I know you are rolling your eyes right about now because you know everything.)

I love that my daughters have great friends.  I love that my home is ground zero for loud, hungry, sweaty girls.  I enjoy when my home is filled with giggles and girls.  However, what I really love is the character I see within these wee people.  I do see some great athletes in the mix, some of them are super smart but all of them have a great set of core values.  THAT’S what I am interested in.  I am empathetic that my child will not have lunch with all of her friends.  I am a little sad that she will be upset the first several weeks of school but I know by allowing her to experience short-term disappointment will teach her a long-term lesson. 

And that my friends is what makes me the worst mom ever.  


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