My perfectly imperfect kids

Last week Ange came home a little out of sorts.  We chatted and I quickly learned that a girl at school was making fun of her hair.  "You have no hair" she told Ange.  And of course she didn't stop there.  "You're bald!  Why is your hair so short?"  She even told her she had a tiny face.

Several months ago I overheard her talking to her grandmother and she said, "I have baby hair."  Her grandmother said, "Oh no you don't!  It's beautiful!"

I cringed.

Lets back up a few ... decades.  When I was younger, my forehead was the bane of my existence.  It screamed at people, "I'm huge so please smack me with the palm of your hand any chance you get."  It was horrible.  I remember walking down the school hall and both friends and non friends at school would just, "palm smack" me right in my forehead. 

Hated.  My.  Life.  because of it.

Not to mention I had super thin, straight hair,  not even enough for bangs.  No help there.  Oh, and can't forget to mention, my dumbo ears that protruded out from my thin hair.  Just the tips of my ears.  Just enough to make me look remarkably ... elfish.  With a horking forehead.  Yeah, I was hotness.  When I hit puberty my hair up and got super curly, but the emotional damage had already been done.

My first bully was in 4th grade.  I remember her.  I had another bully in 5th.  There was a bully in 6th grade also, but she bullied everyone.  7th I had a bully who was, wait for it, also my best friend.  8th and 9th I was bully free.  High school I don't have any recollection of a bully.  Sports consumed me.  Maybe there was one but I seriously don't remember if I did. College pretty bully free, but ran into them again as a wife and  mother.

Now back to my daughter.  And our conversation.  She asked me if her hair was going to grow.  I was honest with her.  "You're hair is short, it's thin.  It may never grow like the other girls."  I needed to be honest with her.  She needed to know I'd be honest with her, so she'd believe everything I was going to say.

I pointed out that one of the coolest girls she knows is a girl on her soccer team in VA.  She only has 1 arm but she's the most outstanding athlete you'll ever meet.  And the entire team craved her attention.  I reminded her that, "She had something 'not perfect' she had to deal with, but look how perfectly she dealt with it!"

"Work the short hair girl!" was another piece of advice.  I truly felt that to take the approach of, "lets change things, lets try diet or biotin, or shampoos or wigs" was NOT the direction to take.  Lets be proud of who we are, what we are, every part of us.  Yes, her hair is thin and has a hard time growing, but the girl has a beautiful face,  trim figure, she's super athletic.  Her humor, her patience, her kindness.  Her smile, her relationship with her big brothers.   Her school smarts, her quick wit. (Not to mention parents who love each other but right now, she thinks it's gross when we kiss.  LOL!) 

I also reminded her that as long as she was female, mean girls were going to be a part of her life, forever.  I still get to deal with them.  It's pathetic.  But that's the beauty of her whole experience now.  She's going to learn how to deal with bullies.  I pointed out to her that even I, as an adult, get to deal with them. 

"You just learn to ignore them, plain and simple."  It's easier said than done, I know.  But the truth is, bullies, all bullies, are insecure and bottom line, if you're bullied it's because they are threatened by you.  So if they can find anything, ANYTHING to "level the playing ground" in their minds, they will.  And if it's saying you're bald, they'll say it. 

I was certainly bullied most of my life.  My forehead was the easiest target.

But then I started playing soccer.  (You can see where this is going.)  My forehead became my best friend, my biggest ally.  This forehead could head that soccer ball across the field, in any direction I pleased.  I've scored goals with this sucker.  I've made girls cry with this baby.  I love my forehead.

Each one of my kids is great.  Each one is perfectly imperfect.  I'm glad they have their imperfections.  The other day Addi said, "I'll never wear that (pointing to a bikini) because I have a hairy back!"  Hilarious!  I can hear it now.  She'll be called gorilla back or something.  She's going to have to deal with it.  And as much as I initially want to protect them from it, I decide instead that better than protect them, arm them.  And in my opinion arming them is being honest with them, helping them to see that no, they are not perfect, but guess what, it's OK.  And it's OK because guess what?  They are better than perfect.  They are Heavenly Father's children, sent here to Earth, to have experiences that will strengthen them and improve them.

And that's one of the coolest things to see in your child.  Improving themselves.  Strengthening themselves.

1st week in ID

We've been here in ID now for a tad over 1 week.  Honestly, it's been great. 

Have you ever transplanted a ... plant?  I have.  I'm not green thumb now, but when I was little, I was.  I did lots of transplanting.  You dig the plant up, careful to not bruise or hurt the roots, and put it in another area of your garden/yard.  You have to make sure the new hole is large enough to not hurt the roots, make sure there's TONS of water, and almost "over care" for your new plant. 

You transplant for many reasons.  Maybe beautify other areas of the yard, keep areas of the garden from choking on itself, or maybe just cuz you're bored and want to.

But regardless, I know that at FIRST, the plant seems to die.

So I kinda relate completely to this.  We left my beloved, precious, wonderful Virginia and came here to Idaho.  A brand new place.  I've never been here.  Actually, I take that back.  I visited my sister when she was in college at Ricks.  So I've been to Rexburg.  For like, a weekend or something.

Anyways, we came here because Matt finished school and got a job here.  And really, everything totally fell into place for us to come here.  I will blog about that, too.  But later.

As much as I hated leaving, deep down inside, I knew it was right to come here.

I think I was transplanted to keep from choking on myself.  Let me rephrase that.  To slow my life down.

Life was great in VA.  Truly.  Great.  So great that I was going about 100K miles a minute.  Coaching, photography, sewing, working at the gym.  Running kids around.  Dropping things at the last minute to do 10 last minute things.  It was quite hectic.  My days just sped by.  I loved it.  I thrive on busy.  But it may have gotten too busy.  I knew deep down inside that "busy was speeding up my time with my small children."

So the Lord transplanted me.  He transplanted me carefully.  Lovingly.  Getting things in order to leave VA ran so smoothly.  Renters for both houses, smooth cross country trip, great weather, car functioned perfectly.  We found a great place here.  Matt's job totally took care of things.  The first week here has already shown me that He transplanted me to "fertile" and "well kept" ground.  I joke that this place sorta reminds me of "The Truman Show" because people here are so incredibly NICE!  From bankers, to school counselors, to teachers, strangers on the street, to ward members.  Small town kindness all around.

And still I struggle.  For some reason, I'm exhausted.  Like, really tired.  I'm in a fog.  In a funk.  I mourn VA at the same time I rejoice in the new adventure.  I meet new people, then feel the void that saying bye to my friends in VA left.  Driving around VA, I was always on auto-pilot.  I'd go from point A to point B and not even remember the trip!  Now as I drive, I almost feel over stimulated as I navigate this small town.  And not having a high speed agenda has, in some weird way, made me super lazy feeling. 

I think I'm experiencing the "dying" part of a transplant.

But I know that the plant doesn't actually die.  It grows stronger actually.  A transplant, if done correctly, is ALWAYS a good thing.  So I have faith that I will only grow stronger from this.  In due time, I'll see so clearly the reason the Lord transplanted me here.

I already feel like one of those reasons truly was to slow things down.  I may or may not take up my photography business.  I'm actually dappling with the thought of turning my attention to learning how to play the guitar!  :)  And turn my attention back to writing more.  We'll see, we'll see.

Idaho has been great though.  I really am excited for this new adventure.  The Lord was in charge of this transplant, so I can say, hands down and with complete confidence, this transplant was indeed a GOOD thing.