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reSLience… a.k.a. resilience

it's what lies within that really matters

So… my little girl… aka Baby P. Silly nickname. I blame her father. But somehow it has stuck… 5 years and counting. Our house is FULL of testosterone. Grunting. Yelling. Beating chests. Gnashing of teeth. And then there is the sweet baby girl. Baby P.

She is the one who pats her brothers lovingly on the head when they are tired or sad and tells them it will be ok. She just now answered the door to ask her oldest brother if he forgot his key. Sweet little voice ending in the upswing tone. Same sweet little face that met me at the door this afternoon to say… “Mom, we need to talk.”

Now.. please keep in mind… “Mom, we need to talk” means something ENTIRELY different at age 5 than at other ages šŸ™‚ (Thank goodness!) So… we talked. She slowly opened her backpack and maintained a VERY serious look on her face. She occasionally made eye contact with me – carefully – making sure I think she’s using her most serious and yet most “please forgive me” look with her beautiful blues.

She pulled out her little folder and opened it. She let me pull out the calendar page where she colors each day for how well the day went at school. Greens are the goal – if it is green it is a good day. Yellows – not so good. Red – UH OH. Only her brother has gotten a red. Yes, Simon. But in his defense that was a long time ago. I digress though… sorry. So she lets me look. Today – sure enough – Yellow. Yellow with a handwritten note in the small calendar box “broke crayon.”

Now… keep in mind her sweet little face is still super serious. The Baby P is a big girl worrying about big consequences. She comes in to talk to Dave and I about it and tells us someone on her team today made her so mad today while she was coloring that she broke her crayon. She was very serious about it and worried we would be angry. With straight faces ourselves, we talked with her about how that probably isn’t the best way to handle being angry. And, the fact that those were Mrs. Sawyer’s crayons. How would she feel if someone had broken her crayon?

Situation resolved… she set off on to new activities for the afternoon. She headed outside to play with the dog in the backyard where she is now happily singing to herself. I wondered how long she worried about that yellow today. I thought about how things just eat at me some days with worry and how good the relief feels when you just talk about it with someone. I’m glad her worries are small. I’m glad crayons are replaceable. I’m thankful that we take these things just seriously enough for her to know we’ll always be here for her – no matter how serious the talks need to be.

This song I thought makes perfect sense to wrap it all together. No matter what age your children are – they always need their parents. And, no matter how old you are as a parent, you want to know your kids hear what you have to say and even if they don’t agree, take the time to consider your point of view. Sometimes life isn’t all black and white. But… it is somewhere in the middle of all those grays… or those yellow kind of days… where we meet and find ways to understand each other.

Daughters... by John Mayer

Daughters... by John Mayer

and because I can never get enough of John Mayer… here’s one more… but I think I better file this away for a decade or so… as far as our Baby P is concerned…

John Mayer - Say

John Mayer - Say


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