And the Hits Keep On Coming...

For the LOVE of GOD!  Seriously.  Yesterday's question was does this shit ever end?  The answer is no, it does not.  Yesterday's dilemma came full circle this morning when my daughter called, upset and crying, to confess her sins...  So after defending her, believing in her, hoping that she would do the right thing by being honest, I discovered that she wasn't being honest at all.  I remained calm, mostly because at this point there's nothing else to really do.  Yelling isn't effective--only seems to shut everyone down.  Not what I wanted.  So I listened to her pouring her heart out, letting me know how the guilt was eating at her and she had to let me know the truth.  I thanked, yes thanked, her for coming clean and let her know two things: 1) she had 30 minutes to find her teacher and fess up (which she immediately did) and 2) there'd be several consequences headed her way and she'd best take them with dignity and understanding.  I felt better--as though perhaps I could put on the good parenting hat for a few moments.  I was happy with the way I handled things--thinking that perhaps she really did learn her lesson and wouldn't ever ditch and lie about it again.

Yeah right.  Since when was anything quite that easy?

I discovered that the girl who ditched with her did come clean with her mother before the teacher was on to their scheme.  I also learned that the girl's mom had texted Marissa--telling her she was glad that at least her daughter wasn't liar and a few other tidbits.  As Marissa told me this, my first gut reaction was to protect her.  How dare another parent do this?  But then I thought about the phrase, "It takes a village to raise a child" and realized that perhaps what I really needed to do was create a village of my own.

I emailed another parent I know in hopes of retrieving this mother's phone number.  Things are so different now with technology--everyone has their own numbers, with a parent's rather difficult to obtain.  Luckily I was able to get it, and called her.

And like the title says, the hits just kept on coming.  After talking to this woman, I discovered that my young, sweet, kind little girl decided to send a text message to her ditching partner--wondering why the f*&! she was blowing her cover.  "Oh really," I said in complete disgust.  I already ate crow this morning when I sent an apologetic email to her teacher and now found myself apologizing to her for my daughter's unappealing text message.  Real nice.  I felt so proud of her.  (Is my sarcasm loud and clear?)

As I relayed my newfound knowledge to my child, I wanted to come unglued.  Had she only confessed earlier because she knew she was about to get caught?  The question was answered before it was even fully developed in my mind.  Disappointment racked my heart.  The consequences would have to be more severe.  She needs to learn.

Her father and I spoke to her, both unhappy with the decisions she has decided to take.  Me on the speaker phone, with the two of them miles away.  And what I learned was being a parent sucks.  Really sucks.  On Saturday my mom told me, "Things can't go smoothly all the time--we can only be thankful for when they do."  At the moment I found this statement so profound that I had her write it down for me.  We were in the car, as I drove her to Marissa's cheer competition, talking about the trials and tribulations of parenting.  I didn't know at the time that I'd need her words tonight.

And while parenting does suck--a lot of the time (those that say it doesn't are lying)--there are those moments, no matter how few and far between they are, there ARE those moments.  The moments when they look at me with eyes so filled with love and appreciation that it takes my breath away.  The moments when I'm tucking them in and they hold on a little longer than usual with their hugs.  The moments when we're laughing so hard that tears pour down my face.  The moments when I wish the day just wouldn't end.

And no matter how few and far between those moments are, they are mine.  And I wouldn't trade them for the world.  I love both of my children more than anything or anyone.  So while the hits may keep on coming, I'm ready for them.  Because no matter what happens, at the end of every day, my kids know all of their parents love them more than anything.  And holding on to that is sometimes all I need.

A great day in San Diego--Marissa and Mom