I am freaking out man. In a few days my daughter Boo is leaving to vacation on the east coast, then to live with her dad for the upcoming school year. My girl, who I have made every meal for, put to bed every night, and have been aware of where she has been and what she has been doing every moment for the past nine years, simply is not going to be in my house anymore. I know you may be thinking “So what Karen, you have six more.” But, trust me, I am freaking out. Boo is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. Her mind and wit are razor-sharp and she is bold and brave in ways you most definitely do not expect from a child. She questions everything and makes connections and conclusions that make me question my own belief system. If you are seeing things in black and white, she has a way of showing you not only the gray in between, but also the vibrant colors that happen to show up on either side of the gray scale, if you are able to see them. She is everything I want to be when I grow up. She is also a big, huge pain in the ass. Having a child who questions authority of any kind is tough when you are the authority (or when you’re going through border control on your way back into the States). And since Boo’s goal is always to be the most powerful person in the room, her status and stature as a child leaves her angry and resentful. She tends to bulldoze her way through the world, sometimes leaving a noticeable path of destruction. She was just kicked-out of third grade for dropping the F-bomb one too many times and for her sassy and provocative nature. She is rude, temperamental, and shocking. And I love her fiercely. I am not the only one; many people who know Boo love her like crazy. They may not fully understand her, or necessarily want her around their impressionable young children – or even their grown children who have yet heard all the colorful words in Boo’s vocabulary, and they may try a secret exorcism on her if they lean that way religiously – but they adore her. I get a lot of “Well, she really is something else!”, “I have never quite met anyone like her.” and “Wow.” Yes, that is my girl. I take some responsibility for this. It is true that I myself have an urban dictionary kind of mouth, have spent a lot of time in the principal’s office in school, and have sometimes unleashed a whole tempest of trouble by my inability to “leave well-enough alone.” But this girl is way more incredible than I have ever been. She passed brazen at about three years old. Once at a friend’s wedding, Boo was five and working the room, going from table to table, entertaining the crowd, it was pretty impressive. As I stood watching her, my friend came up behind me and said “It is hard to give over the baton to the next generation, isn’t it?” Yes, yes it is. But, even more, it is incredible to watch the next generation take things farther than you could have imagined. With Boo, it is imperative that you are 100% honest at all times, because if you have the slightest crack in your armor – she will eat you alive. If you said something five years ago and it is in even a slight contradiction to something you just said– look out. She will call you on everything and the experience can be dizzying. You simply must respect her intellect at all times and love her for exactly who she is, which can sometimes be really difficult. It is an exercise in acceptance, in accepting Boo even though she fits no mold you have ever experienced, even though she is the opposite of what some people think young ladies should be like, and even though you can’t figure out why you are working so hard just to keep up with a nine-year-old. Just simply accept her for the beautiful creature she is. But she is a tough kid. As the minister of our congregation once said “It is going to take at least all the members of this community to raise this girl.”  At least. So, I am having a really hard time handing over this responsibility to someone else. I am doing it, because he is her Dad and because they both want to try this – and Boo is a force you should really work with rather than against – but I am deeply feeling this loss. I feel like being a Mom to Boo is like a calling, like I have been selected to guide this bright young star into adulthood.I also feel like I am uniquely suited to the task. I know how the world treats strong, outspoken women and I have learned how to turn aggression into grace – at least most of the time. I am honored to parent that little girl, even though my Mom would have called it delicious Karma that I have a sass-bucket kind of daughter who gives me hell as a hobby. I am letting this happen and working really hard to accept this in peace. AAARGH!!!! Maybe Boo will thrive in Tennessee with her Dad, maybe she will become a sweet-talkin’ southern belle, maybe she will turn into the kind of person who thinks sometimes women should hold their tongue, maybe she will learn to walk softly, get embarrassed, and not argue religion and politics with whole rooms full of adults. And, then again, maybe not…

Tell your friends...