The Glorious Train Wreck Mom

This is a safe space for all train wrecks. Except here, we don't give you a puppy and a latte. We give you sarcasm and humor.

Us. A year ago. Things are different now. Hair. Height. Jobs. People who live with us. Mental health.
But one thing that has never changed is my love for this kid. Kid. That’s funny. Technically, she’s still a kid. And she does some kid things like watch goofy things, forget to do the dishes, and push buttons trying to find the boundary. But, she’s also pretty mature. She gets when she screws up and owns it. She occasionally will clean the house with no prompting. And she’s making choices that have long reaching consequences, not just the here and now.
For all she’s been through, she’s resilient. Even when she thought she couldn’t do it anymore and thought about giving up, she persevered. She persisted. She fought on. And sometimes, she needed some help but for the most part, that strength came from inside herself. Something in her soul stirred to tell her she’s not done yet. Her story isn’t written. The last line of the last chapter hasn’t even been thought of by the author.
This young lady has been called my twin on so many occasions. Maybe physically. And some aspects of personality. But this kid is and always has been herself. She was named for a goddess and I try not to let her forget that. She is my baby goddess. My little goddess. My young warrior. The life bringer. The healer. The creatrix. And it may be easy to forget all of that as a teenager. But, she has magic in her. It’s part of her. And she shares it with art, her dance, her music, and her smile.

My baby who isn’t a baby is about to turn 15. She’s officially starting her high school journey on Tuesday. We’ve been homeschooling for a few years while she gained the tools to heal and deal. I’m so proud of the progress she’s made in the last year. And sometimes, we fall. Sometimes, we slide backwards. But, we always climb back up, wipe away the tears, and move on from that point.

I know the time is coming when the weekends together are growing few and far between and hanging out with my mom at home will get replaced with hanging out with friends and may be more than friends. It’s the progression of life. But one that won’t change is our love for each other. And the fact that I’ll be here for her no matter what.

I love you, Bunny.

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