Let the Kid Learn

We've been blessed for the daughter to attend an amazing public school. Sure, it took camping out just to get her enrolled, but that short-term pain has paid long-term dividends. 

As the school continues to extend its reach toward higher academics, they've added some upper level classes. Kaelyn had already tested in but somehow wasn't placed in all the right classes. Last week, we became aware that she WAS supposed to be in there and, if she wanted, could join immediately. 

But this requires for her schedule to be completely changed immediately. So she'll be in new classes tomorrow, different from the ones she just had on Friday (and that she's been in for almost a month).

While Kaelyn is excited about the challenge, as I put her to bed tonight, she expressed nervousness of the change. She's so mature at times, I often forget that she's still a little girl who gets scared. We talked a little about it, remembering that she knows virtually everyone in all of her new classes. And we also prayed that God would give her a spirit of calm for the day. But as I turned out the light and closed her door, I knew that she wouldn't quickly fall asleep. Her mind would race, and no matter what I said, her last memories of the evening would be hesitation.

More than a decade into this parenting thing, I'd say this is the most difficult thing. My lived experience is what enables me to offer words of encouragement. But I can speak this because I can still remember feelings of adolescent awkwardness. I know it'll be OK because I survived. As of yet, she isn't sure if she will. I want to eliminate this hesitation from her, but I know in my heart that doing so would be a great disservice. 

A few decades from now, she'll talk to her kid and recollect this feeling. She'll tell the kid that everything will be OK. And my grandchild will not believe her. But it'll all work out.

Sometimes you just gotta let the kid learn for herself.