And I am feeling murderous. There is a group of cool girls who have matching socks and are in one classroom together (not my daughters’ class) and I want to pull her away from these wretches and homeschool her. Which is totally an illegitimate reason to homeschool and I don’t even care because – whatever.
Sigh. That is what being a mom has done to me.
Now, I know what I should be doing – a victory dance because my child trusts me and I have created a judgement free zone where she can come to me with her troubles – but all I want to do is scream profanities at third grade girls like a totally normal person. Only…I know better. And I know that soon one of the sock girls’ will partake in a minor offense (like wearing an out of date barrette and out she will go) and you know who will be there for her? My girl.
My sweet, funny, smart, charismatic child who has more leadership potential as an eight and a half year old than I do now, that is who will save the ousted. Do you know why? It is because she is amazing and cool and full of rebounding after heartbreak. She holds no grudges and there has never been a challenge she couldn’t stare down with her steely eyes of determination. In my lesser moments I will concede that I don’t deserve to even witness such greatness – but she assures me that I do.
So I will do what I can – which is listening to her. I will listen as she starts to tell me parables that wear crop circles around the farmland that is her reality. I will listen to her as I bite near holes in my cheeks to keep me from screaming out as she tells me in the painstaking clarity of the disenchanted how she was excluded and I will continue to listen as she mentions friends who stuck up for her and reinforced her own awesomeness (while mentally preparing to one day buy these girls a house, a car and college educations for any offspring they might have).
I will break the sacred mom-code and for this moment I will be what she needs most – a friend. I will smooth her hair and kiss her cheeks and tell her it’s okay to cry because sometimes friends will break your heart and that is the price you pay for living. I will tell her that I have had a bad friend and I have been a bad friend and I have survived both. I will tell her that she is brave and she is able and I never too much cared for socks anyway.