“I hate school,” said the puffy green comforter. “And, I have a sore throat.”
“Really?” I asked. “What do you mean you hate school?”
“I just do. It’s boring.” A head appeared for a moment, then ducked back under the blankets.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, paused and asked, “Is something going on at school that’s bothering you?”
Already, I envisioned the worst case of scenarios. Was she getting bullied? It’s all over the news lately. Is someone being mean to her? What if she’s falling behind in math? I wished she’d tell me why she hated school. She can’t hate school. What should I do?
I got nothing more from her.
Feeling helpless I said, “Sorry, you need to get out of bed and go to school. Let’s go, up, up.”
Later I realized my mistake – starting with the premise that A.’s life should be easy and fun. Really? Is that really my job as a parent, to make her life happy and easy?
My job is not to make her life easy and fun. My job is to teach her to be resilient and strong no matter what life brings her way. My job is not a helpless one, it’s a helpful one.
Oh, yeah. I bring up a good point don’t I?!