“I am so excited mom…but I am a little nervous too.” she said while she shuffled around staring at her new chocolate boots and the chalk art on the ground.

“I know, me too.” I answered, staring at this girl of mine. “I think it’s always like that when you start something new.” I said with my you-got-this confidence voice.

Truth is- I’ve been a little more than a little nervous. My brow has stayed in the mother furrowed position.

Do you think she will be okay?

You know she has that funky way of processing…it probably means she’s brilliant or something, but that stuff never fits in school. I don’t even care if she’s brilliant or not, she’s so persistent, bossy, loving and can be so intense, and don’t forget her insane desire to do, be, make art…this kid needs to be heard, understood…seen. Awww hell, we all need that.

Do you think this was my big sign from the universe that I should homeschool? …oh God, I am not sure I can handle it.

We really should just save our pennies now for that magical middle school for girls that we can probably never afford.

…I am not even sure who I was talking to but my mind went on and on.

…and then I did the only thing I knew to do, I took her out for a girly day. A new uniform, a pixie hair cut, a big flower headband…and lots of fill-her-soul up stuff, friends, books, nature,and nail polish. Her excitement was building, she was so blissed out. So ready for the next step.

…and somewhere in the middle of all the soul filling I realized I was actually the one being taken to school. I didn’t see it but at some point she crawled out of my body and became her own person. I mean, my body doesn’t even keep her alive any more, she doesn’t have any trouble saying how she feels or asking for what she needs, and every skill that drove me crazy at age 3 turned out to be the best tricks in her bag to navigate life so far.

How did this happen? How did I get enrolled in the school of independence? What. The. What?

Ohhhh, I knew it. I know one day…

she will have a crappy teacher that may not get her

she may rock the hell out of her art show

she will figure out some boy/girl is just not for her or she may get dumped

she will have to stand up for herself or walk away

she will hate me when I tell her she can’t wear that trashy skirt

she will be wounded, and find a way to heal

she will be be brave and kind

she will stumble, make a horrible mistake and be sorry

she will put on the most perfect outfit and feel so full of every part of her beautiful body and self

she will wonder if she is enough

she will dance

she will feel alone and have to give what she needs to herself

she will drink too much and regret it…and then do it again

she will fail

she will triumph

she will love deeply, with all of her heart

…she will live her very own life.

…and there’s nothing I can do about it. …and that’s wonderful and terrifying. …and then I took a deep breath and looked around. I looked at her papa wrap his arms around her…and I looked at my friend Emily hold her Marie close…with the same look of confidence in her eyes. the same look of love.

…and every spot I looked held the same love she’ll need, the same love she knows, the love birth gave her, the love her soul has always held.

So I cursed the school under my breath knowing I have so many more classes to go to…but sat down in the love, remembering it has never left me either.

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