Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Just Pull the Trigger

My oldest kiddo took a test yesterday. It was a test she had spent all summer preparing for- running numbers through her calculator, filling up legal pads one after the other, burning the midnight oil. She was more than prepared. She had checked and double checked all her facts, figures and lists. She had been working her way towards this gig since her freshman year in college. And today was the day. 



The morning of the big day, I sat at the kitchen table, pretending to read the paper. I watched her look over pages and notes she probably knew by heart. At this point in the story, I want the court record to reflect that, on the outside, I was a beacon of self control that morning. Cool as a cucumber. However- inside my brain- not so much.  These were the thoughts bouncing around in my noggin:

                              ~I should probably talk to her about the importance of protein at breakfast. Those simple carbs aren't                                            going to hold her all day.
                              ~I wonder if she should bring a jacket. They probably have the A/C cranked up in there today.
                              ~How does she get her hair to do that cute curly thing at the back of her neck??
                              ~That cereal has too much sugar in it. That's not so good for her teeth. Wait! When was her last dentist                                          appointment???
                              ~I wonder if she needs a hug. Hugs are always good. I should go give her a hug.


Instead, I resisted acting on those thoughts. I used my super ninja mama strength, walked by her, and said, "You got this, sweetie. Just pull the trigger."




I talked her into letting me and Cissy drive her to the testing center. (C'mon, You had to know this is how it would play out. Even Cool Hand Luke broke in the end.) I could tell by the way she held her shoulders she was apprehensive. This was real world. This was high stakes. As she reached the entrance, I saw her pause outside the door for just a second, take a deep breath and walk inside.


Three hours later, all was right in the world again. The test was over. She had scored better than even she had hoped. We broke out the Welch's Sparkling Strawberry Juice and toasted her accomplishment. Nothing but class here at Chez McFarland. Here's the thing, though. I was (and am) proud of how well she had done on her test. But what makes my heart bust with pride is that she reached for the brass ring. She leaned way out there, with no guarantees and went for it.

 She pulled the trigger.




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