Charlie

I was sitting with Charlie yesterday (quarantine school--yikes!), and I told him people ask sometimes why I'm not writing about him. They also ask what he thinks about all of this. 

Charlie is 13. 13-year-olds, at least this one, and the majority of those that I teach, are sarcastic and snarky. I mean that in a good, hilarious-sense-of-humor-that-might-annoy-most-adults way. 

So, he said, "Yeah, write about me! I want it to be about me! I want all the attention!"

So, I said, "I will. What would you say if someone asked you how you feel about all this. All this Hadley-is-different-maybe-even-*GASP*-gay?

"I don't know," he said. "She's mean sometimes, but I don't care if she's gay. I just wish she wouldn't scream at people." 

There you go. Spoken like a true brother.

I asked him about what he used to question, and he doesn't even remember questioning anything about her appearance. 

I think it was a year ago, maybe two, when Hadley wasn't wearing a shirt at a friend's pool, and Charlie embarrassingly said, "Hadley needs to wear a shirt. She is a GIRL." 

He doesn't remember getting angry one Halloween many years ago when his little sister wore a Bumblebee Transformers costume, saying it was a "boy costume." 

He doesn't remember asking why she was wearing a button-down and khakis to a wedding, or to a concert, or to every other "fancy" event.

He does remember all the times I have encouraged him to support her in the face of adversity. He remembers me telling him, the 13-year-old, that we can't say, "That's gay," anymore, as a negative comment. He remembers many times that he has been proud of Hadley and in awe of her for her confidence and assuredness. 

Charlie is the reason I shared this blog. 

One day during quarantine, I decided I would write a book about raising Hadley. I thought if it helped one kid of a parent who was unsure how to deal with their "differences," it would be worth it to me. I started writing but became overwhelmed with the task of finishing a book while teaching online and making sure my own kids were learning from home. My husband suggested a blog, so here we are.

The blog was secret, though. I had one view, and I was okay that way. It was safe. 

Then, Charlie said, "Why don't you share it?" 

I, being honest, said, "I'm scared. I don't know really of what, but I am." 

He said, "You should share it."

I am constantly telling Charlie, "We do hard things. We can do hard things." When he has a hard assignment and feels like he can't do it: "We can do hard things." When he isn't doing a good job at soccer or loses a game or can't get a drill: "We can do hard things." When he is nervous about going somewhere new where there are people he doesn't know: "We can do hard things."  This is why I decided to share. Because I can do hard things. I have done many hard things, and being true to yourself is sometimes hard but always rewarding.

Later that night, I shared with Charlie a message I received from a friend who is a new mom. She thanked me for sharing and said:

"As a new mom, I have struggled with 'doing what is best' for my baby, not because there is a problem, but because I listen to my friends and try to take their advice. That being said it's still hard not to want to conform with the majority. I don’t want to want to and never have and your post reassured me that I don’t have to. The only thing I want is for my baby to be the best that he can be."

I told Charlie, "This is why we do hard things. This made it worth it. I could be done, and that's enough."

One of the positive things that has come out of this quarantine and sitting for hours doing schoolwork, is that this 13-year-old, who rarely talks to me, is TALKING to me all day. Sometimes, I have to tell him to hush, but for the most part, I have enjoyed this time with him. He is so bright and deep and full of love. He understands that I don't need to blog about him, because raising a straight, white male isn't exactly tricky. Yes, parenting in general comes with obstacles and "hard things," but raising a male that wears male clothes, likes his hair short, and likes to follow rules (for the most part) is not as challenging as raising his sister.

I will always, however, encourage him to be true to himself. I told him just the other day that I don't care if he is an artist (he is), a soccer player, a scholar, or a reader. I want him to be happy with himself and feel good about who he is. I don't ever want him to be something for me. I will always tell him to disappoint me before disappointing himself.