In the Striving

It was my first day at a brand new school.   I was in the 8 th grade, and my family had just moved from Kansas City, Missouri to Redlands, California.   I was a fish out of water.   And any kid who has ever had to move knows that the most dreaded part of the first day in a new school is lunch time.   It’s quite a predicament.   You have to choose between being bold and asking some random person if you can sit with them, risking total rejection…or sitting by yourself and in turn, looking like you clearly have no friends, risking your reputation for the rest of the school year…and possibly, beyond.   On this particular first day, I had made it all the way to Social Studies, my 4 th class, without making up my mind on which option was less painful.   A decision would have to be made soon, though, since lunch came right after Social Studies.   Little did I know at the time, words were being said, on my behalf, to make sure that pain was not what this poor, new girl would experience.

Love. I have actually struggled to write about this one, which is odd because love seems to be an obvious, right? When it comes to parenting, we all know that we are supposed to love our kids. Allow me to go out on a limb here and assume that we all do, in fact, love our kids. However, the more I have read this portion of the book (Losing Your Marbles/Playing for Keeps), and thought about it, I have come to the conclusion that love is not simple. But it’s so incredibly important. According to “Marbles,” “Love over time is the one thing that matters most.” I typically try to put all of this in the context of my own experience as a parent. However, in this case, I think I will share my story as the result of love over time from my own mother and father. My parents were so good at communicating, “I love you.” I never went to bed at night without hearing it. I never left for school in the mornings without hearing it. My parents never failed to tell me they were proud of me. T