As we munched on lemon poppyseed muffins the morning of the second day of school, we tuned in to our local Christian radio station.
Over breakfast, we listened to my interview about this post.
My son and hubby beamed, my toddler pointed to the radio and kept saying, "Momma in de radio", I flinched at the sound of my voice over the airwaves and my nine year old daughter, struggled.
My strong, independent girl is an achiever. She is a task-completer, a hard worker and a leader. But she didn't feel as motivated as her brother to read her Bible. And that's okay with me, but it's not okay with her.
Being a parent is hard. With one-side of my heart, I celebrated my son and his accomplishment. But the other part of my heart broke for my oldest who was in the grip of jealousy.
I pulled her aside and looked into her tear-filled eyes. "I know this is hard. I know you wish it was you. And I'm sorry. But we are going to celebrate your brother. We are going to gather around him and we are going to be proud, just like we did with you when you made the Fun Run team. And when you finish reading your Bible-even if it's a year from now, we will celebrate you! We're a family."
And then I hugged her and cried.
I know the vise of envy. I know the strangle of jealousy. I know that she's just a normal little girl who loves to excel and achieve. And I know it's hard to watch her little brother be first.
I know we're going to be happy about the highs in our family and mourn together in the lows.
Even when they are at the same time.
Because that's what we're about.
