scribblechic

I have this moment pinned to my thoughts, a smile just askew of my attention. This week you threw a quiet temper tantrum, a storm of self-righteous indignation that simmered beneath deceptively calm waters. At the time I was so very frustrated by a casual detachment from your studies that I contrived to withhold every possible outlet of entertainment, not expecting to uncover a smile. You shook off each consequence with a stoic disregard; boldly you crossed your arms, straightened your posture, and stared me down. Each posture was an exercise in independence, but the cockeyed arch to your eyebrow and determined pucker to your lips betrayed your rage and unraveled my mask of seriousness. I could push no further and so I relaxed into a genuine appreciation for the passion behind your certainty. I did something I rarely managed when you were little, I laughed openly at the ridiculousness of the power struggle between us.

Sweet girl, I hope you choose your battles wisely and find your footing carefully. Know when your cause is lost and be thoughtful in your conviction. Don’t be afraid to look silly, but don’t mock those who guide your choices with love. Never apologize for your strength, but be mindful of your power. Love, Mom

Tagged: Daughter, Musings, Strength