littlegirl's volleyball team kicked all kinds of butt today.
It's been an incredible year for my youngest. I can say without hesitation that seventh grade was a nightmare--new school, death of beloved Grandpa, over weight, unhappy, lonely, struggling academically. She climbed into the car every single day last fall and all through the winter and she cried.
For a mother, this is heartbreaking. Everything in us wants to protect, to defend, to smack the mean, tormenting, little
biotch girls in the head, but we can't. It's our job to see the longer road, while taking the higher road.
We have to be strong.
G and I did everything we could think to do. Tutoring, therapy, listening, helping, meetings, conferences, appointments... but in the long run, we had to say---
You can't quit. You have to get over it, and you have to get on with it. I cried, or nearly so, every single day.
This year, she's a different person. She's made friends, she's found her niche, she's gained ground (although slimmed down), and most important of all, her confidence has grown. She came through the terrible stuff, and she's strong.
I'm thinking about that tonight--what it means to survive junior high, which for most of us was the worst period we can remember--and how hard it is to find yourself, and to like yourself, when you're different from your peers.
I don't often discuss my kids here on my blog--and probably I mention
littlegirl least of all, because I am tremendously protective of her. But I'm grateful and proud that she's come through that difficult, miserable time and maintained her wonderful, sweet, funny, unusual outlook.
Anyway.
Yay for
littlegirl. I luff her.
