Case in point - my spunky little blue eyed girl. I call her spunky when she is singing at the TOP OF HER LUNGS at home or in the car. Or when she is dishing it out to her older brother and his eyes are begging me for mercy. She is no shrinking violet. Here. But get this girl in a new situation and she is the tiniest church mouse you've ever seen. Today is her first day of school at St. Edward's.
On the way to orientation yesterday she was all big and bad seeing her brother off on his first day. Sassy walk, a quick hand over the shoulder as he departs for class . . . Spunky. We get to her classroom for the meet and greet with her teacher and she won't even walk inside. What? She is plastered to the wall in the hallway furiously shaking her head no. Where's the little chick from the drop off line? Forget about spunk kids, we've got a problem.
I realize that it's scary for her and I want to be there for her.
Well, actually I WANT to say"Suck it up, sister and get in there. This is only the beginning."
BUT, the Super Sweet Mama in me says
"Come on Baby Girl. Show me how brave you are."
Now my girl may not be inherently brave, but she sure does love a challenge. I know what it takes and now she's gonna rise to the occasion. And she says
"No. I'm not brave. I don't want to."
Oh brother . . .
How do I teach brave? What do I need to learn to be able to say it right to her?
If I could hug her tight and transfer brave to her sweet little heart I would. But I can't. And it hurts. I don't want her to be afraid and nervous and unfriendly. I want to see her throw half a wave over her shoulder and say
"See Ya, Mama!"
But, I'm just not sure I'm brave enough to let her go.