Strong As a Girl

There has been a lot of talk about strength in our house as of late.  First, "finish strong" was the phrase we kept saying when referring to the end of summer.  We've got to finish strong: keep up the fun, don't give in to the heat or whining of bored kids.  I have to say I failed on that one. I did not finish strong. I kind of gave up and tailed off after the epic road trip and pretended that summer was no longer happening.  Then there was "start strong". We've got to start the school year off organized and with good attitudes and a place for everything and everything in its place.  I did much better on this one including setting up a drop off place for backpacks and school junk in the laundry room. (And by me, I mean Bill.)   And we are always talking about being physically strong and healthy.  Have you seen my husband?  

Close, but Bill has better hair.

This first week of school the prevalent theme was "be strong".  SG was up at 5:45 every morning and at school by 6:30 in order to be at tryouts for volleyball.  She was exhausted each day and each day I told her "You've got this.  Be strong."  And she was strong.  She suited up, she tried and she got her school work done and fell dead asleep each night, worn out from being strong.  I was hoping, and praying, that her being strong would pay off and that she would make the team and see that being strong has its rewards.  Unfortunately, I forgot that being strong isn't always instantly rewarded and unfortunately, she is learning that as well.

I am so sad for her to not make the team and be rewarded right away. I am so disappointed that her show of strength was not crowned with achievement. I hate life teaching her that you can be strong and still not get what you want. She was very sad and I absolutely ache in those moments of parenting when you are comforting them and telling them you are so proud and while your words are nice, they are not enough.  They don't staunch the tears, they don't fill the wound, and they don't make it better.  Parenting is its own test of strength sometimes.

I hate that being strong and trying aren't enough anymore to win a spot on a team.  I hate that they are awarded points for every single exercise they do instead of being looked at individually and in their entirety. I hate that our kids have to be superstar athletes who carry a 4.0+++++ in order to be at the top of anything, or awarded anything, or noticed. I had forgotten how horrible middle school is until we went up there for Athletic sign-up and I was "MOMMMMMMMM!!!"ed at for saying hi to someone who used to be a friend but now isn't a friend.  I broke some sort of social etiquette by saying hello to one of the popular kids.  Sorry, I knew him when he was eight and had a crazy smile and rang our doorbell asking for kids to come out and play.  I had forgotten the social land mines our kids weave in and out of each day.  It makes me think that while I was telling SG each day to be strong, I should have really been telling her how amazed I am at how strong she already is.  I guess I need to tell her that it is also alright to not always be strong.  That it is okay to be vulnerable because being vulnerable can set you up for your next feat of strength or help you recover from the last one.

However, as I was trying to think of how to tell her all this, this amazing girl, while suffering her own disappointment, found enough strength in her to tell a friend who also did not make the team, to not be sad.  She put her own sad aside and told her friend that she did great and tried hard and should be proud of herself because she was proud of her.  It makes me realize that I don't want to be as strong as an ox, or a mule or ten men. I want to be strong as a girl.  My girl.