I sometimes feel that life is so much more difficult for my youngest. There are times, I honestly want to crawl into the shower just so I can cry for her. I wish I could tell her that these tough childhood years should be cherished and that it will get better. Whatever you’re feeling right now, despair, embarrassment, anxiety, loneliness…it will all change when you discover your own path. I know this because she is me and I am her. I was that kid and I passed that awkwardness onto her.
My oldest is one of those kids that’s good at everything. She’s outgoing, a natural leader, she is listened to, is popular and makes friends easily. She’s athletic and academically smart. She never sweats the small stuff. If she has a bad day, fails at something or gets her feelings hurt, she doesn’t let it stop her. She wakes up the next day, without anxiety and conquers her day.
My youngest is sweet and shy. She’s emotionally deep and gets her feelings hurt at every turn. She struggles with self-esteem. Crowds make her nervous. School causes her to have anxiety. The unknown frightens her. She always gets hurt. If she is in line at school, waiting for her teacher to arrive and a ball flies at the group, she is the one who will get hit. Every time!
Today, we arrive home from the store and the neighborhood kids have started this adorable lemonade stand. They ask my girls if they would like to help. Within five minutes, my poor daughter accidentally knocks over the glass pitcher of lemonade. It crashes onto the cement and shatters.
Devastation takes over. She is crying, apologizing, embarrassed and the kids are angry at her. The mom (The owner of the pitcher) decides it would be best to shut down the whole operation.
We clean up and I offer to replace the pitcher and lemonade. The mom is understanding but I can tell she’s a little stressed out and she tells me to not worry about it.
Meanwhile, my daughter is so beside herself with grief and embarrassment that I’m honestly worried about her. My heart is breaking because I see myself. That was me. I was that kid. The kid that is clumsy and tips over the paint bucket, ruining all my classmates projects. I’m the kid that lost the game of kickball because I forgot to run to the home plate. I’m the kid who was left out of a group project because someone said I’m terrible at drawing.
We rush up to the store, I buy a new pitcher and use this as a teachable lesson. When we break something that belongs to someone else, we should try and replace it. She seems to feel better and likes this idea. We knock on the neighbors door, we not only try to give her the new pitcher but we also give her the exact cost of the one we broke. She gives my daughter a hug and refuses our money and offer of the new pitcher.
I know she’s still hurting though. I can see it her in little face. I spend the day, playing with her, listening to her and trying to get her to laugh again. At the end of the day, she writes me this note, “I love my mom. You are the best Mom ever. I love you because you make me happy.”
It took everything inside of me to not start crying.
Oh child! My sweet darling. It will get better. I can promise you that. It takes time. It takes a lot of falling down. Someday, you will open your wings and fly to heights unimaginable. This day, this silly lemonade stand story, will be nothing but a distant memory. I hope you laugh at it! I hope you can learn to find humor in these moments of utter mortification. Like me, you will be molded from rough clay but the result will be beautiful!
