Category Archives: Bean

11.

Standard

Dear Bean –

Happy birthday, kiddo – you’re 11! And, frankly, you weren’t happy about it. You told me, very seriously, that 10 was a great year and you’re a little worried that 11 won’t live up to your expectations.

Girl, I hear you.

Getting older is HARD and I know you’re starting to realize that things are changing. You only have one more year left in your beloved school and the kids you’ve known since you were 3 will scatter. We’re still in the process of figuring out this home addition. And this summer is an odd one with lots of trips – one without your dad and I. While you do many, many things well, you do NOT do change.

Bean_CloseUp_091709

But here is where I tell you, it’ll all be fine. I swear it.

~*~*~*~

You weren’t wrong though- 10 was a stellar year for you! You slayed 5th grade with great study habits, a wonderful teacher and solid friendships. You continued to ride horses, you gave up lacrosse (in a moment that oddly made me stupidly proud of you), you made more Tik Tok videos than should be legal and girl – you found basketball.

You’ve never been much for team sports, and that’s Ok. You don’t thrive off of the sense of community that comes from playing on a team, you don’t really care about meeting new people, nor were you particularly sold on sports, but something clicked this year. So, with the urging of some friends, you decided to try out for a travel basketball team.

You made that team and you FOUND YOUR TRIBE! A group of girls that you instantly bonded with- I have never seen anything like that with you before. Even your teacher commented that being part of this team gave you more confidence across the board. So, high-five to that!

Bean shooting baskets in an empty arena.

~*~*~*~

And now, you’re 11.

Here is what I hope for you this year:

  • I hope you realize that you can always, always keep talking to us. I don’t care if it’s about inane Tik Tok videos or your deepest fears – I will always listen.
  • I hope know that I trust you to make good decisions.
  • I hope you know that when you don’t make good decisions (because you’re human), we’ll talk them through. Yes, you may be punished. Yes, you may have to live with consequences you don’t like. Yes, you may disappoint me, your dad and yourself. But you’ll grow from what you learn and do better the next time.
  • I hope you know that your emotions are going to be BIG this year – and for roughly the next 7-8 years. And you’re not going to know what to do with them sometimes and that’s OK.  You can laugh, you can cry, you can yell and you can talk them all out. All are totally good by me, but…
  • I hope you know that big emotions aren’t an excuse to be mean. Don’t be a jerk for the sake of being a jerk. Mean girls and the drama surrounding them won’t ever be tolerated in this house.
  • I hope you you realize the very real difference between being a jerk and standing up for yourself. Because, my girl, standing up for yourself is something every.freaking.person needs to know how to do – and sometimes, when you stand up for yourself, you run the risk of not being liked.
  • I hope you know it’s OK not to be liked. I hope don’t fall into the trap of thinking that your self-worth is dependent on what people think of you – because it is 100% not. Say that with me one more time: What other people think of me doesn’t determine my self worth. And keep saying it to yourself every damn day until you feel it in your bones.
  • I hope you know that regardless of the changes your body starts to go through, you’re beautiful. I hope when you look into the mirror you see the strength and humor and brains that I see and know you’re gorgeous in the very best ways.
  • I hope you always respect your body. You won’t always like your body – it’ll be doing some weird things soon enough – but I hope you realize what a gift your body is. Strong legs that run you where you want to go, arms that lift you up, a spine to help you hold your head high. You’re a freaking miracle and I hope that even when you hate your body, you still respect the hell out of it and treat it properly.
  • I hope you know that you’re always, always loved fiercely.

So, here’s to 11 being even better than 10! I can’t wait to see where your adventures take you.

The Bean at the barn.

I love you,
Mom

 

Advertisements

10.

Standard

Dear Bean-

You have been blessing this earth with your sassy attitude, funny personality and charm for a decade now.

Girl, you’re old.

How in the world did that happen? Aren’t babies supposed to stay babies? I think there is a law about that somewhere that you broke with all this growing up you’re doing.

Bean_3monthsOld

We were in FL back in March, on the beach in St. Augustine – you were all long, skinny, tanned limbs and my heart stopped just looking at the gorgeousness that is you.  Not just your physical features, but your sparkling eyes and loud laugh  – that was the moment I got a glimpse into you who you’d grow up to be and it was astounding.

~*~*~

You are still my mystery girl. Your brother and I are very similar- what you see is pretty much what you get. We like people, we like crowds and there are no such things as strangers- just friends we haven’t met.

You, on the other hand, are much more guarded. You keep your circle small, your friends close and list of things you love to do pretty damn small. Getting you to try new things is like pulling teeth and if you’re not sure you’ll be 100% successful or comfortable doing something- you’d really rather not.

Parenting you is sometimes one of the most challenging things I do  – and I’m so thankful for it.  You, my Bean, make my life a 1000x more interesting. You keep me on my toes, you show me a new way to look at things and you’re constantly wowing me with your intelligence and humor.  In short, I adore you.

Bean_FL2018

~*~*~*~

This past year was a great one for you. You rocked 4th grade- adoring your teacher, getting good grades and working hard. This year was the start of some serious girl drama as you discovered that have 2 BFFs is hard. But you ladies figured things out and learned a bit more about kindness, compromise and what being a friend is about.

You kept playing an instrument, even though you complained once a week about that. You played lacrosse again and killed it – even though you complained about that too. Your father and I have figured out that you’re going to complain about most things that take you out of the house- but once you’re there, you shine. You’re dedicated and work hard and more or less remember your manners.

The only things you never, ever complained about? Playing flag football and horseback riding. You’ve already stated that in 7th grade you’re playing real football because when you grow up you want to play in the NFL. Then become a marine biologist. You don’t care which you do first- you’re just going to do both of them. And I really don’t doubt you will if that is what you really want.

As for horseback riding- you started taking lessons about a year ago and fell in love. I don’t know if it’ll be a long time love affair- but you have never once tried to get out of riding and you’d pretty much rather be at the barn than anywhere else (except home- you always want to be at home). It’s a joy watching you find what makes you happy – and right now, being on a horse is one of your most happy places.

Bean_TheBarn

~*~*~

You start 5th grade in a month – and it’s the first time in your life you’ll go to a different school then your brother. You two make each other crazy, but you’re also each other’s BFFs and I wonder how this will go for you. I have a feeling you’ll find a sense of independence you’ve never had before and I can’t wait to see how you stretch your wings.

As you start the first year of your second decade, I wish so very much. I wish you:

  • Friendship: keep your BFFs close, but don’t be afraid to make new friends too. Let people surprise you in the best way possible- because people are amazing.
  • Kindness: I hope the girl drama stays to a minimum and you all remember the importance of being kind to others- but to yourself as well.
  • Courage: try something new. Venture out and do something that scares you just a little. You are smart, funny and amazing- hold on to that knowledge and step off that ledge.
  • Determination: some things are going to be hard. You’re going to have to work really hard at some thing, or you’re going to be faced with a situation that will need strength. Stick to your guns, see it through and know that what ever it is, you’ll succeed.
  • Confidence: Know all the way down into your bones that you are worthy of love, kindness, friendship and compassion and settle for nothing less. Be true to who you are. That may mean that you won’t be loved by everyone- and that’s OK. Be confident in yourself enough to know that it’s about the quality of those around you and demand what’s due.
  • Curiosity: don’t be afraid to meander down different (physical and metaphorical) paths if something interests you. Sometimes you’ll find the most delightful surprises at the end.
  • Conviction: as you get older, knowing your own mind and sticking up for what’s right becomes more and more important. Ask question, figure out how you feel about things and stick up for yourself and others when you feel you’re not being respected.  I have all the faith in the world in  your ability to move mountains.

Bean_Hair

You, my darling Bean, are one of the best gifts I have ever received. You are my heart – my wild child, my rule breaker and my stubborn mule. Watching you grow is my greatest privilege and I cannot wait to see what the next 10 years bring.

Love,

Mom

Road Trippin’

Standard

The calendar tells me it’s Spring. The kid’s sports calendar tells me it’s Spring. Mother Nature didn’t seem to get that memo though- it’s cold and grey and sleeting outside my window. It snowed on Easter Sunday. This seemed like a particularly bitter pill given that we had arrived home from Fl the day before.

We had a fantastic trip – hitting the West Coast…

HoneymoonIsland

Disney…

MK_Fireworks

and the East Coast…

StAugustine

There were feet in the sand, Mickey Ice Cream Bars consumed daily, trips to numerous pools and tanned faces. There was also one trip the ER (the Hubs, sinus infection), one puking kid (the Bean, low blood sugar) , two teeth lost (Scorch, they were loose) and minimal tears. We drove 1115 miles* on the way home and no one lost their minds until about 45 minutes from home, so I consider that a win. There was lots of family time with some of our favorites, a date night that turned into sharing a table with two drunk fishermen with lots of funny stories, and lots of movies watched over and over and over to make the drive down and back bearable.

All in all it was perfect and the Hubs is on his annual campaign to convince us all to move south. Maybe one day…

~*~*~

Full confession- I wanted to fly to FL this year. So did the kids. But a combination of a last minute date change and the Hubs iron will meant we drove. And while it’s a pain in the butt (2 days in the car both ways), I’m so thankful for these times.  When we travel, we usually travel with people or to see people – but those days on the road are just the 4 of us at dinner and crammed into a hotel room. We only have 7 more of these end-of-winter get aways with both kids (!!!!!) so I’m feeling the need to savor them.

The kids are also amazing travelers. I’m sure it’s a combo of their personalities and the fact that they have no choice- but they really are. Road trips with them are a joy 90% of the time (the other 10% involves vomit and/or sibling death matches).  Because they are so very awesome, we’re driving cross country with them in 2019 for a few weeks…

…and I have no idea how to plan this trip. I mean, I know how to plan the route and where to stop, but I don’t know how to plan how we’re doing this. Taking our car and staying hotels or cabins? Renting an RV? If so, do we tow our car?? That part baffles me. So hit me up, peeps, with any thoughts you have on that topic!

 

Broken- and Why I’m the World’s Worst Mom

Standard

When Scorch was in 3rd grade, he started snowboarding. He worked so freaking hard to learn- it took him all 6 weeks in row of weekly 2.5 hour lessons to finally- FINALLY- get his green pass. He hasn’t looked back since. Last year, the Bean and I started skiing. She’s fantastic, I stink- but we are, officially, a family that skis. (Except the Hubs- he wants nothing to do with it thanks to his previous 5 knee surgeries.). We love our Thursday nights on the slopes- Scorch heads off with his friends while the Bean and I stick together and she makes fun of how slow I go. We meet up randomly and then have a fun dinner out. #bonding

IMG_20180118_165237388

Last week, just as the Bean and I got off the ski lift at the very top of the mountain, I heard my cell phone ring. I ignored it and we continued on with our group lesson, slowing inching our way down the hill with our instructor and 8 other kids. All was going well enough until I got a tap on my shoulder from another chaperone who some how tracked me down to tell me Scorch was hurt and that I needed to go check on him ASAP.

Which was doable – in theory. Except that I was stuck at the top of a trail I didn’t know with my 9 year old who promptly fell over, lost a ski and started to sob that she was never going to get up again. So I called the head chaperone who was with Scorch, determined that no bones were jutting out, EMTs were not called and he was calm – then I more more less told the Bean to calm down, pull herself together and get moving.

15 agonizing minutes later I rushed into the room where Scorch was to find him acting completely fine. Sure, he had ice on his wrist, but there were no tears, swelling or bruising. It was rather anti-climatic after our rush down the hill.

We headed home and had the Hubs (a former EMT) look at Scorch’s wrist where he deemed it fine. We asked Scorch to perform a bunch of mobility exercises, that he did successfully and then basically shrugged our shoulders and figured he was fine.

The next day, the wrist was still sore, and, given that Scorch had a basketball game and two football games the next day, we decided to get him x-rayed just in case. The doctor we saw agreed that it was probably nothing but ordered the x-ray just in case.

You know, just in case his wrist was broken in two places. Which it was.

Scorch handled this rather well all weekend long – until Monday when the cast was put on and reality set in. That night, my sweet, patient, loving child lost his ever loving mind as we drove to the gym (something we so every Monday, Wednesday and Friday so the Hubs and I can work out). There were tears, yelling, stomping of feet- and then finally, after getting the Bean all riled up – The List.

My kiddos spent the last 15 minutes of our drive to the gym outlining all the things that I don’t let them do that I should:

IMG_20180122_180318372

For the record, I defending myself against the “lying” accusation by noting that telling my kids that they can do something, only to find out what they wanted to do wasn’t offered at the time they wanted to do it (something out of my control) was not lying (that happened the week before). I also told them I’d stopped yelling in the morning (why do I yell? So we get to school on time. I didn’t yell yesterday once, we were 20 minutes late). The rest? Well, they’d just have to suck that up- that’s called parenting.

Bottom line: Scorch is in a cast for the next 3 weeks, he’s a resentful mess over it and I’m wondering how much a kid with a broken wrist would get me if I sold him to the circus.

 

Self(ie) Love

Standard

This weekend, the Bean took my phone, snapped a quick selfie and asked if she could post it on my Facebook page.

My immediate, visceral reaction was No. No- we don’t draw attention to ourselves like that. No- we don’t just take selfies and share them. No, just no. I hate taking solo selfies- if I take a selfie, it’s with other people while we’re doing something that I want to document. It’s not just me, sitting on a couch, snapping pics. That makes me* feel like I’m begging for attention (…as opposed to blog writing?? I didn’t say my thought process was logical).  But the Bean was adamant and I don’t ever want to squash her if I don’t have to, so I told her to have at it.

Her caption? The beautifulest girl

You guys, I wanted to cry. And cheer. No matter what society is throwing at my kid, right now my 9 year old is feeling herself. She thinks – hell, she knows – she is the most beautiful kid. I don’t want my kids to get all caught up on external beauty- that’s not my priority and it shouldn’t be theirs. But I do want them to have a health self-esteem because, lord knows, the world will try to knock them down a peg or two as they grow.

Beautiful

While I really hope my kids don’t grow up taking duckfaced selfies all day long, I do want them to love themselves today and every day.

 

*No judgement if you’re a selfie fan!

6 and 4

Standard

After one of the craziest, most fun, busiest summers ever, we’re firmly back into the fall routine. The kids are happy with their teachers, school is going well and we have a nice rhythm going on. This is actually our quietest time of the year with minimal after school activities and I’m enjoying every.single.second of the peace – because you know it won’t last long.

So, the summer. We did a lot – we visited Lady Liberty…

NYC2017

Saw a professional ballgame (or 3 – baseball was big this summer)…

Yankees2017

Visited with hundreds of our friends at a local music fest…

PorchFest2017

Spent The Best Week Ever in the Outer Banks with family…

OBX2017

Visited a Fort…

FortMcHenry

And drove a dragon in a Harbor.

Baltimore2017

The kids went to different camps each week- school camps, nature camps, sports camps. The Bean learned to sail a boat and Scorch got to hang with friends. In short, the summer was really just about perfect and I was beyond sad to see it go. But you know was solves your dread of summer being over? Having your kids home for 2.5 weeks before school starts while you’re working full time. Trust me, that’ll teach you to embrace a schedule.

So- 6th grade and 4th grade.

BacktoSchool_20172018

This picture of their feet makes me laugh every time I see it because it captures them perfectly. Scorch will stand still and do what’s asked of him because it’s easier and he likes to please. Bean is literally trying to back away out of the picture as quickly as possible because she wants no part in following an order and cooperating. His feet are 2.5 sizes bigger than mine and she’s still obsessed with all things gold.

I love those freaking kids so much and I’m so very excited to see how they grow this school years. But honestly- I’m even more excited for next summer, because summers are the best.

9.

Standard

Dearest Bean-

As has been my habit lately, I’m writing this horribly late. I’m so sorry about that, but we’ve had such a full, fun summer that writing has taken a backseat to living. If it makes you feel any better (because I know you pay attention to these things), Scorch’s birthday post was just as late.

So you, my darling funny face turned 9 over the summer. 8 was a fun age, but 9? At 9, I expect you to soar. I like you at 9- the age suits you.  You have turned into this long legged, tanned spitfire- still so much a child, but I’m starting to see the hints of the amazing young woman you’re growing into and I’m in awe.

Bean_3monthsOld

8 was the year you continued to figure out who are you. When you were 7, you bloomed and at 8 you continued to shine. You have always had a huge sense of self, but 8 is when you started to sink into your own skin in the best way possible. We had countless conversations this year about friendships and what they mean and what they look like and how I expect you to treat others. Not because you were doing anything wrong, but because everyone around you is growing up and sometimes the world around you doesn’t always seem stable.

But we’ll always be that stable home base. Your touchstone where you can be you- which ever you you decide to be that day. Some days it’s the quiet, laid back you, content to curl up on the couch. Other days it is the touchy, miserable child who spends more time spitting fire than speaking. Some days – heck, some minutes- it’s both. And we’ll always love you no matter what.

Parenting you is my biggest joy and my biggest challenge. Scorch and I are on the same wave length, but you and I? Well, we’re different. You don’t let your true self shine around a lot of people- most often, you’re reserved and quiet. Standing out in front of a crowd of people you’re not close to is pretty much your worst nightmare. The fact that I call you one of your numerous nicknames, frequently hug you or play with your hair or – some days – even talk to you at all in public is infuriating to you. You hiss at me to call you by your real name and to stop touching you. You’re not a baby, darn it! <insert literal foot stomp here>.

So I have to temper my natural inclination to be loud, to overshare and to run my fingers through your hair. I want you to be more flexible and less worried about what others think, but I also want to be respectful of the person you are today and the amazing person I know you’ll grow to be.

Bean_OBX_2017

So, for your 9th birthday, I have some wishes for you:

> I wish you fearlessness. I hope the child we see at home starts to explore the world more and makes her presence know. “Quiet as a church mouse” isn’t a phrase I ever want to hear again.

> I wish you joy. Joy in your friendships, joy in your family and joy in what ever pursuits you decide to try. Nothing warms my heart more than hearing your belly laugh.

> I wish you strife. Not a lot of it, obviously, but I feel like you’re on the edge- where life is going to start to get more complicated and, sadly, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with it. So I wish you small fights and sorrows today so you are better prepared to deal with the bigger ones down the road. No one’s life is sunshine and roses all the time and knowing how to be resilient will serve you well.

> I wish you friendship. I’m still friends with many of the people I knew in 4th grade. I wish you those friendships that stretch and grow with you as you make your way in the this world.

> I wish you confidence. You, child, will move mountains one day. Hold on to that knowledge, keep it close to your heart and never stop listening to the voice in your head that tells you right from wrong. It will take you exactly where you’re supposed to be.

> I wish you love. May you always have it overflowing in your life- the love of friends, of lovers, of family. A love of something- books, a sport, a hobby, a passion.

Kiddos_OBX-2017

Raising you is one of the biggest privileges in my life and I’m thankful each and every day that you’re mine. I can’t wait to see what 9 brings for you, Smooch- I know you’re going to rock it!

All my love,

Mom

Dear Neglected Blog…

Standard

Dear Neglected Blog,

It’s not you, it’s me. Or more specifically, it’s the kids. They have taken over everything. I don’t know who allowed that to happen, but here we are. The end of March through now has been lost in a haze of baseball, lacrosse, concerts, birthdays and other things I can’t remember. It’s all been amazing and fun, but it’s been a time suck to the nth degree.  Hence, our temporary breakup.

Let’s see- what did you miss. Scorch turned 11 a month ago. We just held his birthday party this past weekend because it was the first day that didn’t involve multiple kids needing to be in multiple places in for-freaking-ever. Back in May, he and I traveled to NJ together for a baseball tournament and that 1:1 time was truly the best gift I received this year- we had a freaking blast.

NJBall

We got our first taste of travel baseball and tournament play and it was such a great, positive experience. I don’t want to face the fact that my baby boy is growing up, but he is- and it’s a joy to watch. I promise to post about his 11th birthday before he turns 12.

Beaner tackled some pretty big demons and played in not one but two concerts this spring. Getting this child to put herself out there like that was a huge hurdle and she rocked it. Literally.  She got dragged to more baseball games this spring then she ever had and only lost her mind once, bless her sweet heart. Thankfully s’mores fixed that up quickly for her. Now her lacrosse season started so the tables are turned.

Lax2017

The Hubs traveled two weeks in a row for work and my job recently changed. All good stuff- but one more thing keeping us busy. I saw Rusted Root in concert two weeks ago and then Neil Diamond the next week. I’m sorry blog, but live music comes before you any day of the week. #sorrynotsorry

School ends next week and I want to tell you I’ll be back more, blog- but that may be a lie. Regular baseball season turns into All-Stars and lacrosse gets into full swing. Camps start up in earnest and life will continue to fly by. And I wouldn’t have this wickedly crazy awesome life work any other way.

Be back soon….

 

Bless me, Father…

Standard

On the way home from school today, the kids and I did a quick review of what we were doing that night. The boys had baseball and the Bean and I were going to a Lenten Penance Service. For the non-Catholics out there, a Penance Service is an abbreviated Mass followed by numerous priests taking everyone’s confession. Scorch went to confession last week so he gave the Bean some tips on what to expect and what to do. Then, they started listing out possible sins for her to confess to.

They both agreed that she had to include that she calls her brother names, but a big debate started on whether or not she should share what names she calls her brother. The verdict? It was OK to share “moron” with the priest, but not OK to share “ball sack.” (Don’t judge us- it’s a whole new world when you raise an older son and younger daughter who talk about everything.)

~*~*~

IMG_20170405_183224678_HDR

Our gorgeous church

Confessions can be done one of two ways in our church. You can opt to have a privacy screen up between you and the priest or you can sit in a little room face to face. The Bean was adamant that the only way she’d give her confession is if the privacy screen was up. I explained to her that while I’d do everything I could to make that happen, she may have to speak to the priest face to face. She thought about this for a second and asked if I’d go in the room with her if that was the case. I agreed and told her I’d plug my ears so her conversation could be private between her, the priest and God.

Why? You’ve yelled at me for all these sins, so it’s not like they’ll be a surprise to you.”

Good point, kiddo- good point.

~*~*~

When it was my turn, I opted to sit face to face with our priest. We had a great conversation after he heard my confession and, as we were winding down, he reached his hand out to me, looking like he wanted to shake hands. At the last minute, he raised his hand slightly, so his palm was up, facing me. I was super confused so when he started talking, I admit, I didn’t pay any attention to what he was saying because I was trying to figure out what the heck I was supposed to do with my hands and what the heck he was doing with his. It was super awkward, so I didn’t really think- I just reacted.

I high-fived him.

After I did it, I started listening to what he was saying and realized he was giving me absolution and praying over me and I high-fived him in the  middle of that. He wasn’t raising his hand for a slap, he was raising his hand to give me a blessing.

So I looked at him and he looked at me and we both started cracking up because clearly I am the biggest idiot he’ll see all day long.

 

To My Badass Bean on International Women’s Day

Standard

Dearest Bean-

Today’s International Women’s Day and, until the past few years,  I hadn’t heard much about this day. Started in 1908, the day was created to mark the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women. Back when it was started, women couldn’t vote. They couldn’t hold most jobs. They couldn’t be whomever they wanted to be. For you and me- white, solidly middle class women living in the Northeast- that’s pretty unimaginable.

Over the past year, we’ve seen women start to roar, loudly and with purpose. You and I and Scorch watched live feeds of Susan B. Anthony’s grave on election day. We marveled at pictures and videos during the Woman’s March on DC. We blasted Beyonce’s Run the World and we read Rebel Girls nightly. We talk about what it means to be a woman today and how the sky is the limit.

But I have something to confess—until I started educating myself, I didn’t know why this was so important. I have never thought I was less than because of my gender. I have never been assaulted. I have never been harassed. I was raised to know my self worth and even at my lowest, I have never, ever doubted that I am worthy of as much respect as a man. Nana and Papa never made me feel less than my brother. I have been very, very blessed- as are you.

But a lot of women aren’t as blessed. There are a countless issues women face world-wide and million reasons why a Woman’s Day is needed, but let’s talk about something you can relate to for a second. Did you know that nearly half a billion women cannot read and 62 million girls are denied an education world-wide? People are not taught to read or allowed go to school simply because they were born with a vagina instead of a penis. Girls are more likely to have to stay at home and tend younger siblings and other household chores; ensuring education falls way down the priority list.

As a result, 1 in 3 girls in the developing world are married before the age of 18. Any chance of living a good life is tied to the men in their life—fathers, brothers, husbands and sons. If they marry into poverty or to an abusive spouse, a woman’s options for getting out and moving up are next to none without an education and marketable skills.

Yeah, yeah—I know a lot of that doesn’t mean a lot to you here and now. Child marriages and abuse is as foreign to you as walking on Mars and for that, darling girl, I’m so thankful. But it’s because we’re so blessed—because we do have it so good—that we need to work even harder for those who don’t.

I don’t know what the means for you—hell, I don’t know what it means for me. All I know is that this year, I’ve been inspired to find out how I can give back. Right now that’s been monetary through donations, but I hope to figure out a way to take action and you can bet I’ll be dragging you and Scorch along with me.

~*~*~

InternationalWomansDay.jpg

I saw this picture earlier today and gasped. The bull has been a fixture on Wall Street since 1989 and last night, the little badass girl showed up. Her name is Fearless Girl and when I look at her, I see you. You, child, are my  prickly pear. You’re my kid who doesn’t like hugs and who suffers through inane small talk. You keep your tribe small and tight and you hate when you don’t know what to expect or what to do. You are equal parts sass and stubbornness with a side of humor and grace that I marvel at daily.

When you decide to stand for something, you plant both feet firmly and you don’t give up and you don’t care who is in your way. Often times, this makes me crazy—but little girl, you will move mountains. You will vanquish giants and you will always stand up for yourself and I couldn’t be more proud.

So today on International Women’s Day I honor the women who have come before me, I celebrate with the women who fight today and I wait with eagerness and hope to see how you change the world.

I love you, my fearless girl.

-Mom