She didn't make ensemble.
I wasn't surprised. I hate to say that, hate to be that mom, but I'm really not surprised. Girl Child had dozens of amazing qualities and while she truly does sing with every bit of her soul, her voice is just not that strong yet. She's getting better all the time, but the small group of kids that were selected last year were good. Really good. I knew the competition would be stiff, especially considering how many kids were trying out. I knew chances were slim.
Still. It was hard to see her, blinking back tears.
"Do you want me to beat someone's bitch ass?" I queried. Because, clearly, I'm either the best mother ever of all time or I need to be locked up.
"Whoever didn't pick you. You want me to beat their bitch ass?"
She sniffed. "It was the two chorus teachers mom."
"Okay," I said. "I'll beat both of their bitch asses."
We laughed. The Boy Child, of course, looked alarmed until the Girl said, quietly, "She's just kidding brother."
I was kidding. Of course. My kid isn't going to make every team or every group or get to be the star of everything. I told Girl Child about how I tried out for the basketball team in 7th grade. I didn't make it. I cried and cried. When it was time to try out for softball I was so afraid, because I remembered how hurtful it was to not make the basketball team. But I did it anyway, and guess what? I made the softball team. (I did not give her my opinion of Middle and High school athletics, because it's not very positive. But I digress)
I told her proud I was, just how very proud, that she's willing to try.
I don't know about that kid. She's a mystery to me so often. I wish I could understand her in the ways I think she probably needs me to. I wish I could make her understand how awesome she is, and how much she impresses me, not just because she walks through the door of that school every single day with her head held high, but because she says things like, "Big feet are a blessing" and at the end of a long, hard day wants nothing more than to sit in the front seat because she's tall enough now.
I love that kid so much.
I never want her to stop believing in her song.