Friday, March 28, 2014

Being a Hero

Thank you all so very much for the thoughts and support with regards to yesterday's post.  I have had a nice, fairly quiet day at home in which I have gotten a lot of little stuff knocked out that needed to be taken care of (documents are now scanned and e-mailed, replacements orders have been placed for stuff that was falling apart, the laundry is done, etc.), and I am in a better place mentally and physically.  The line is still there in Doodlebug's vision, but he claims it's somewhat fainter.  I'm not sure if this is true or if it's simply wishful thinking on his part - the placebo effect is strong in this one - but it's not getting worse, and that's something.

Anyway, none of that is the point of this post.

A few days ago, Boo was bouncing around the school room and announced flatly, "You're my hero, Mom."

As simple as that.  "You're my hero."

And with those three little words, my daughter blew my mind.

I never had a hero growing up.  The notion that you were supposed to have a hero was one that simply sounded ludicrous to me.  In sixth or seventh grade, we were supposed to write an essay on our hero - who that person was, why we chose that person, etc.  I have a confession to make to my English teacher at the time:

Dear Mrs. Grant, 
     
     My essay was pure, unadulterated bullshit.

                      Sincerely, 

                      Sarah

I'm sure I made up something about a grandmother or a famous person I'd read about at the time or something, but it would all have been lies.  Lies, I tell you!  I had no role model, nobody who I felt was worth being other than me, myself, and I.  And I have always rather liked that about myself.

And so now, when my daughter announces that she has a hero and that hero is ME… well, you can see where I would struggle.

I am exquisitely sure that one day I will very much NOT be her hero and she'll want to be NOTHING like that crazy old bat she has to call Mom (or Mombledore, or Mumsie, or whatever else I get called around here), but for right now, this vibrant, bouncy daughter of mine has it in her head that I'm a good person and that she should be like me when she grows up.

It's both thrilling and petrifying.  I hope I can live up to at least a few of her expectations.  Because heaven knows I haven't lived up to all of mine!

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