When you see your least favorite things about yourself reflected in your children, it can break your heart.
"I watched him as he stood off on the side of the blacktop, watching the other kids playing football. My son, the oldest of my three children, who was so much like me at that age that I cringed inside.
He shuffled his feet and swung himself around the pole of the playground equipment, just to make it look like he was happily playing on his own. He looked up at the football players so often, though, that I knew he wanted to be in there with them. The bigger kids. The same grade as he, but older than his June birthday. And a little bit bigger and more solidly built than his 4’2″, 43-pound frame.
My heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces seeing him off on his own while his friends played. I silently shouted to him across the playground, “Go!!! Just jump in and play with them!” I urged him with as much mommy telepathy as I could muster, wishing I could magically give him instant confidence."
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