Driver

 “But honey, some of y'all have let folks drive your car who shouldn't have even been allowed to ride in it. But there you are, handing over the keys to your mind, heart, and soul. Some people you let drive your car too long. They aren't doing any maintenance on it. Haven't contributed a gallon of gas, but they are still driving your life instead of you. Honey, time's up. It's time to take your keys to your car and your life back." Tabitha Brown

Every year I make peanut a "birthday book." In it are the highlights for the last year. Her previous birthday, all the holidays.

But also all the ordinary. The school days. The park outings. The library hold up pick ups. The lunch with friends.

On the last page of her book, I write her a letter.

I remind her of all the good in the previous year. I remind her of the hard we overcame. I remind her who she is. Each book ends with the same statement .........."You are....." followed by a list of attributes (kind, empathetic, creative, etc.).

We haven't celebrated Peanut's birthday as a family yet, but she always gets to open her birthday book with her birthday pancakes on her birthday morning.

I love that this her favorite gift. The one she asks me about every year.

Every few months, I find all her previous birthday books spread out on her floor.

She is walking down memory lane.

I started making her these books as way of staying ahead of the digital clutter. Making the book forces me to go through a years worth of photos- delete, organize, upload them.

Over time though, making these books is a tangible way for me to remind her of where she has been. And where she can go.

The pictures of the season of tennis remind her she can try new things. The pictures of her grandfather's funeral remind her she can weather hard loss. The pictures of her on stage remind her she can be brave. The picture of her with friends reminds her that relationships are tricky but worth it.

The pictures also tell other stories though.

The pictures tell stories of churches we've attended and left.

Of friends she's had who are no longer in our lives.

Of activities she's tried that weren't a good fit for her.

It tells the stories of rooms we've left.

I think those are just as important as the stories of rooms we've stayed in.

In the last audiobook I finished the author shared something like this "People are in your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. The challenge is figuring out which category someone is."

Knowing when to stay and when to leave an activity, a space, a relationship is a hard skill. One I honestly still struggle with.

I want Peanut to know that it's okay to stay. But it's also okay to go.

I want Peanut to drive her own car. (Figuratively because Jesus knows I absolutely may not survive a 3rd teenage driving experience in this house)

I don't want her to hand the keys to anyone else.

And when it's time to kick out a passenger - I want her to have the courage to do it. No matter who it is.

Mama Warriors, let's be people who model for our kids how to stay and how to leave.

Let's be people who put words to a reason, a season, a lifetime.

Let's be the drivers of our own cars.