“Mom my workload is pretty heavy this week, and I’m a little overwhelmed, can you help me?” I could tell by the sound of her eraser rapidly on her paper frustration was setting in. Her question didn’t even need to be asked, the answer was clear. I was there to support her learning. It was my job. If she was reading a novel for literacy, I was engaged in that novel. Frankly, I enjoy that part.
I spent a large part of my school years distracted and missing out, so I am grateful to go through this journey with her. My story looked alot different than hers, so I knew my goal was to use the strength I gained and love her through it all.
Annoyance is written plain across her face as I often get more excited for her projects than her, but nevertheless she appreciates it.
If she needed to dig deeper for more in depth answers to her questions, I was there to pull ideas from her. If she needed assistance with math, well I’m not much good there, they teach it so different than when I was her age, however with a tutor, and YouTubes greatest math hacks, we feel comfort in knowing she has that support.
Her learning has become my learning. My job is to calm her, chunk up her work, to make it seem less, knock her anxieties down a notch, and to guide her in understanding. Some days she just wants me to sit on her bed while she works, and that’s what I do.
These formative school years, and her formative years period, will be the time when I will support her more than ever. I will walk through every step beside her, and when she falls I’ll be there to encourage her to leap right back up, while jumping over my son’s toys and dodging nerf bullets of course. But hey, we aren’t built to break.
My girl enjoys school, she loves to cook for our family, she works hard, I admire her for that. She has taught me so much. Although I see glimpses of myself in her smile, her attitude, and her moments of panic, I look at her as an individual, her ability to want to do her work and use her time efficiently, the child in me is envious.
I peek through her door, gazing at her as she tends to her homework, and I just truly appreciate and love her for who she is becoming. A young lady. I am proud. I make sure she knows that as she goes through life. I have given her more independence.
Whether it be walking to the park with her friends, or grabbing a slurpee after school on those hot days. When that attitude comes rolling in with a vengeance and choices are not made wisely, those things she loves doing so much that make her feel like a “big girl” so to speak, get taken away.
“It’s not fair,” rings through my ears like a song on the radio forever overplayed. “It’s not just my job to guide you in school work, it’s also my job to guide you through life.” “You will get it one day my girl.”
I get excited for her quizzes,and the whole house the days leading up are designed with post it study notes. I am elated when she comes through the door grinning from ear to ear because she was successful in her day.
On those shitty days, in the moments when she just doesn’t get it, well that’s ok, that’s what I’m here for. We are not meant to “get” everything. Trust me. I never got everything. I struggled. ALOT. Perhaps because we didn’t have the resources we do now, perhaps I had other things going on In my world, or maybe just maybe, it was a lesson to prepare me for my girl I have now.
My struggles became her success. That’s how I see it. That’s how I look at it now. So we keep going. One step at a time, one assignment to the next, and I realize, my storm from yesterday, has given her rainbows today.