You Got Balls, Baby! YOU GOT BALLS!

See this kid with me?

Yeah. Him.

I’m pretty proud of him, ya know.



No, he didn’t bring home a report card with all straight A’s (although a mother can dream … right?!?!)

No, he didn’t single handedly save a toddler behind the wheel of a runaway car (a la Agent Cody Banks).

And no, he hasn’t solved world hunger, while calculating the equations in his math homework.



What DID he do, you wonder?

He wrote a letter.

That’s it.

A letter.



However, it was a very SPECIAL letter.

It was written to someone who is very important to him.

Someone he had A LOT to say to.

It took him two months to decide what he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it.

It had to be absolutely PERFECT.



He didn’t sugar coat it. He told it like it was.

He was honest.

Brutally honest, about his feelings.

He took a big chance writing that letter, because he was unsure of the reaction of the person who would be reading it.

But in the end, he didn’t change a word.

Regardless of the potential consequences, he clicked ... SEND.

And for that, I’m SUPER proud of him.



I had nothing to do with his letter. Didn’t contribute a single word.

He told me I was allowed to read it, but wasn’t allowed to ask him to change any of it.

Because they were HIS feelings.

Right or wrong … HIS.

And for that, I had to respect him.



On the drive to school later that morning, my boy and I were talking about his letter.

There was a part of me that STILL couldn’t believe he’d actually sent it.

The outcome of sending it could have gone many ways.

Luckily, for now, it has a happy ending. So for my boy(s), I’m happy.



At one point, I looked over at him and said, ‘Well, you definitely inherited your mother’s moxy!’

‘What’s that mean?’, he asked.

With a smile, I said ‘You got balls, Baby! YOU GOT BALLS!’

Gee … I wonder where he gets that trait from?!?!??!

K.