Motherhood Mercy

OK,God! Mercy! I give up! I cannot figure out how to help my daughter. Me, the helppingest helper in the world, cannot help, fix, or change the hell of being the new kid in 6th grade.

She’s an introverted, thoughtful, artsy, quiet, distracted kid who is desperate for a friend.

God, this has GOT to get better. What if she starts some behavior that isn’t healthy? It should be in “The 10 Steps of Moving:” Number 8, get licence. Number 9, get therapist. Number 10, give yourself time.

Tonight she told me a story about something that happened today in math class:

“Some stupid boy was acting so stupid. I told him to cut it out and do his job. And then this other stupid kid at our table said, “no wonder she doesn’t have any friends!”

Did you know that I have a strong right hook?

She’s on this really competitive swim team and she is not awesome. Yet swimming is her identity and she desperately wants to be included. To be part of the team. She said, “I wore my team shirt today, but nobody seemed to notice.”

“I just can’t figure out how to make a friend. What’s wrong with me?!”

My guilt in all of this is palpable. I am the reason for her unhappiness, right? Somehow, I have the power to fix this, right? Surely there is something. Homeschool? No. Private school? No. Time? Maybe. But what if she doesn’t get better? What if she is miserable and becomes the next Emily Dickenson, or worse?!

Preschool was so much easier! Third grade was a snap. This feels monumentous.

So, Dear Lord, have mercy.
I pray for the lonely child upstairs, tucked in bed after battling a day of cafeteria food and stupid boys. I pray for the quiet child who wants to be heard and recognized. I pray for the friendless child, who would be somebody’s friend if they would get out of their pre adolescent head long enough to notice. I pray for the dreaming child who wants to create and play and has no interest in formulas and fractions. I pray for the parents who say, “now go have a great day!” And then cries in the parking lot as their little girl goes to face another day. Lord, in your mercy….
Hear my prayer.

1 Comment

  1. Oh, Shelley, my heart cries for you both. Sixth grade is such a hard time to change. Things that seemed normal about a person in one place suddenly get to be oddities in another. These kids are not used to her, they haven’t been to school with her all along, and most of them aren’t all that sure of themselves. We moved when I was in third grade. It was just a move across town, but I was still the new kid. That was when I found out I was fat. No one at Butler had ever called me fat, suddenly at Lawrence one girl decided to make my life miserable and called me fat all of the time. I had a particularly hard time in P.E.
    Dennis’ family moved from Detroit where he had been a very popular 5th grader to Champaign where he became a nobody. He didn’t act out or find bad friends, but his grades did drop for awhile, and he was very unhappy.
    We will be praying for you both.
    By the way, it isn’t your fault. Remember that she has inner strengths to draw upon that will get her though this.

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