Jumping beans

It’s been a while, I know. We’ve been quite busy the past couple years. Maybe I’ll tell you all about it, if you ask. If you actually want to know. But I’m guessing by the time you start reading these, you’ll be “too cool to care” about what happened “back then”.

Nikisha, my Beans, you’ll be 9 years old next month. I’m not sure where the time has gone, but you’re growing way too fast for me. I’m going to have to have the mother-daughter talks soon, but I’m not ready. The older you get, the less we get along. I don’t want to lose my baby girl.

Except, I want you to grow up to be a strong independent woman. Take on the world with the your head up high. But mama is going to do it wrong sometimes. Maybe even most of the time. I just want you to know that I’m trying. I’m still learning how to be a good mom. Forever learning. You are my first teacher on this subject. You’re doing a great job. Me? Not as good as you.

Academically, you’re not doing the greatest right now. Everything is hard. But you are my daughter and I know that you’ll figure things out when you’re ready. I just forget. And I push too hard most of the time. It’s not your fault, but mine. Because I do not know what to do and instead of trying to figure it out, I flip out. I’m working on that. I don’t want to make you feel insecure anymore.

You’re doing good in other ways. You’re so full of energy and free spirited. You had a hard time learning how to ride your bike without training wheels, but you didn’t give up even though no one had the time to teach you. Just a couple weeks ago I watched you look at a picture and draw it. Within minutes. I was amazed.

I can go on about the good and bad, but the point I’m trying to make is. Despite what an awful job I feel I’m doing as your mama, you’re amazing.

Tea party

For quite some time now I couldn’t wait to send you off to a friend’s house to play. Maybe I’ll have a little more time to get things done. Maybe you won’t be so bored all the time. Maybe this summer we won’t want to scream at each other so much. In our current situation, one could only hope, right? We didn’t know anyone. Would they accept us? How do we make you some friends?

Then today it happened. You came home and told me that the lady across the street wanted you to come play with her two daughters. Our new neighbors. This is what I’ve been waiting for! Finally.

Except that after you walked toward their house, I felt lost. And I wondered. Is this how other parents felt when their child grew up and moved out of the house? Is it worse? IT CAN’T BE WORSE THAN THIS! I’m only slightly freaked out about it. Really.

Yet. I also felt proud. The lady came over and asked if it was okay. She said to me, “Every day I look at her and think she’s sooooo cute. I want her to play with my children!” and my heart exploded. Into a million tiny pieces that I’m struggling to find. Someone wanted MY daughter to play with her kids!

Our neighbors are new to this neighborhood. Even more than we are. So maybe they’re as lonely as we are and desperate for some friends. And I know how bad this may sound, but I’m happy. I probably would never have had the guts to go over there myself and try to make friends. I’m a little scared. And shy. Sounds insane, I know. But it’s true.

I worry that someone will think I’m an awful mother. Or that you and your sister are not good enough for their kids. I’m afraid we’ll be rejected by the other families. So imagine my surprise that our neighbors wanted you to be friends with their kids just because YOU’RE CUTE! That’s it? No 20 questions? No interrogation whatsoever?! Really? Awesome!

You said you had a good time and that you liked them. There was a tea party with cookies! They were so nice to you. I’m happy. We might make it through this summer after all. Will you be going there again tomorrow?

And…

Do you think you can bring your little sister with you? Just kidding. Kinda.