Every other day, Moira, receives a letter like the above one from a friend at school. She now is receiving such letters from two other girls in her classroom since Christine started her daily pennings to paper.
It has been brought to my attention, Moira, has too many girls who want to play with her. First world problems if you ask me.
On the flip side, Celia, can't seem to find the any good girls to play with her. She has taken to staying inside for recess to do AR reading tests so she doesn't have to struggle to find someone to play with for twenty minutes.
I'm not sure what else I can do to help. I've talked to the teacher and she really doesn't suggest any of the girls in the class but maybe one. The rest she says are too drama-filled for Celia. Celia doesn't act unhappy when she comes home from school like last year. She only dreads things like tests not people like before. I know she would like to have a best friend like her sister seems to have in spades. I've offered for her to invite one of the girls from class to come over and have a sleep over to maybe help spark something. Celia has finally agreed to ask the little girl - though in a moment of totally heartbreak, she asked "what if she doesn't want to come over and play with me? What if she says no?" Rejection from the last few years at the other school was so intense. She still feels like the little girl no one wants to play with. Though to be fair, when I see her with others at school, they aren't excluding her.
Man, it is so hard letting go of your children to fend for themselves in life .It is hard being the mom and trying to not control every second. Making sure everything is perfect for the kids without being the hover-mom.
Rich asked me the other day what we were going to do when Moira fails at doing her cartwheel in front of everyone during her 2nd grade P.E. program (she just can't seem to pick it up and I really can't say much about it since I've never been able to do a good cartwheel myself.) My response to him was, let her fail.
He about choked. "What?"
"Let her fail. Everything comes easy to her. Friends, school, activities all are effortless for her. If she can't do the stupid cartwheel, she can't do it. Life will go on and hopefully she'll learn something from the situation. Learn something about herself. No one is going to die or fail because she can't do a cartwheel. She'll still be loved and we will still say good effort."
I'm slowly but surely learning to stand back with my girls. I want them to be independent of me one day. I want them to learn to trust their instincts and stand firm on their choices. I personally don't want to be questioning them if they remember their shit or if they have it together when they are my age. I'm raising them to be better than me. To believe in themselves.
In other news, pray no one dies or gets killed skiing this weekend. I'm about to vomit due to all of the anxiety from the possibilities from this trip. This coming weekend doesn't seem like a relaxing vacation to me.