To all the Military Mamas taking motherhood “on the road” every two years, this post is for you.
For hand-carrying all the records, test scores, and pieces of paper that cannot be lost.
For keeping hope in your heart that this school will be as good as (or better) than the last.
For encouraging them to “just give this place until December” to become normal.
For praying they come home with that one friend who will make everything easier.
For peace as they release their “hearts” every day into a world that favors mediocrity and “fitting in.”
This is for you, Military Mama, and this is for them…
For that “brat” or “dandelion” of yours who is at their third school in five years.
For the one who is currently in the thick forest of transition desperately trying to get out.
For the one who looks like a normal quiet teenager but is screaming on the inside.
For the one you encourage without exhaustion because you know how exhausted they really are.
For the one taking challenging classes and balancing new activities.
For the one not taking AP classes or participating in activities and is still amazing.
For the one who prefers work to school and is striving for vocational skills.
For the one who can’t be alone.
And for the one who finds peace in solitude.
Finally… for the one with the beautiful heart (connected to yours) that remains hidden from the rest of the “normal” citizens of our world.
And to all of the Mothers of Dragons, I raise my glass to you as well.
For those mothers whose children’s needs require a special level of patience, resilience, and the fierce warrior ethos of Daenerys Targaryen. To all of you, the Mothers of Dragons, I raise my glass.
I raise my glass to all of you bravely raising That Kid.
That Kid who measures success with a different ruler.
That Kid who shows us all how to teach creatively and compassionately.
That Kid who may never hold a conversation at lunch or run for student government.
That Kid who may not be bragged about on social media or in the school newsletter.
That Kid in the lesser known schools. The ones with alternative programs and less-than-prestigious reputations. The schools that are a last resort for some, but a lifeline for others.
To all of you caring for That Kid, I raise my glass to you.
I raise my glass to those who consider “getting on and off the bus” every day a victory.
I raise my glass to those who know there are many roads. Accepting the one your child has been placed on can be hard and soul crushing at times; the acceptance will set you free.
I raise my glass to those caretakers who can’t record this time in their kid’s life by test scores, homecoming photos, and prom-posals.
And I raise my glass as you celebrate the small daily wins that keep hope alive.
Finally, I raise my glass to those who have to chain their inner “Mother of Dragons” when they know that they can’t force people to treat their loved one any better.
To all the Military Mamas and the Mothers of Dragons, I leave you with this toast…
May you measure your days by the unique victories you celebrate.
May the victories outnumber the defeats.
May the defeats teach you important lessons.
May you have enough faith and fire to do it all again tomorrow.
And may you always remember…
You are not alone.
*This is dedicated to all those parents who fight hard for their kids… Especially Lisa, who is the fiercest Khaleesi I know!