More Than Middle School

Mom, this was my last Monday in elementary school...

Every day Chloe has been finding new ways to tell me that she's growing up, that she's leaving familiar things behind for unknown, uncharted territory. And I respond, I know, Baby. Because I do.

I've known from the very moment that I held my newest little bundle in my arms, that these moments are precious, and fleeting. In high school we had to decorate a poster to show what we wanted to be when we grew up. I found a picture of a lady in an apron, holding a spatula, baking something in a large bowl. I'm sure it was some sort of advertisement for Betty Crocker or something, and it was cheesy and stereotypical, not at all trendy or cool. And I remember thinking, Whatever, I don't care what anyone thinks. Because when I grew up, I knew I just wanted to be a mom.

Me and the Veggie Tales, making something amazing.

So yeah, I'm kinda aware that my baby bird is growing strong flight feathers, and is peeking over the sides of the nest. And I'm super proud. Part of me wants to build the nest higher, but the other part, the better and more selfless part, whispers, I know, Baby, it's almost time to fly.

She will fly because I know what's inside of her. Even though she's a black belt and can disarm an attacker, flip them over, and break their elbow in three places; even though she plays soccer like a fierce little tiger and can out run a cheetah; even though she's beautiful and smart and funny, those things don't define her. And even if someday she can't kick a little white ball into a large net as well, or if she trips and falls and can't run as fast, or if she finds someone more beautiful, smarter or funnier. She's going to be okay. Because her character is what defines her, and her Creator whispers you are enough.

The Sugar Queen

If I have done my job well, then she will face life head on, knowing that she is precious, priceless, and studded with stars. The thing that I pray over my kids, more than anything else, is, God, help them to know how much they are loved.

The reason our yard is full of dandelions

Because when you know you are loved, the little things don't matter as much and the big things are more manageable because you know you have a safety net when you fall. And you can do hard things bravely.

This coming fall, when she heads off to 6th grade, I'll tell her the same thing I told her brother: Decide who you want to be, and be that. With confidence. Everyone else is trying to figure out who they want to be, sometimes they hide themselves by picking on someone else. But if you're brave, and you know, and own, who you are, everyone else who is looking for their place will respect you too. But if you're afraid and insecure, those who doubt themselves the most will try to make you smaller to cover their own fear of not being good enough.

I know you're growing up, Baby Girl. But you're going to rock middle school, because you are more than enough.