My Seeds Have Taken to the Wind

You planted me. You gave me life. I’m a seedling.

You planted me. You gave me life. You dug a hole and put me in the ground.

You planted me. You gave me life. I am surround by rocks and pebbles and I start to sprout.

You planted me. You gave me life. My roots have sprouted but they can’t go deeper than a few inches because you put me in soil that is unfit for a flower.

You planted me. You gave me life. Despite my surroundings, I begin to grow. I grow through the sharp and jaded rock. It cuts my stem and damages my leaves.

You planted me. You gave me life. I peak out from the rocks and gravel and I see the sun; I feel the rain but I can’t grow anymore. I am small. I am stuck this way.

You planted me. You gave me life. I look around at all the other flowers. So pretty. So vibrant. So big.

You planted me. You gave me life. I am ugly. I am dull. I am small.

You planted me. You gave me life. I watch you walk past me. I watch you walk to the other flowers. To a garden where the grass is greener on the other side.

You planted me. You gave me life. I see you beaming with pride over the beautiful flowers you have but I have never seen you full of pride when you pass me.

You planted me. You gave me life. Days pass by and I struggle to breathe; I reach for the sky and try to plant my roots deeper but you step on me because you don’t notice my struggle.

You planted me. You gave me life. My flower is broken. My stem is cracked. My leaves are wilted. A petal falls.

You planted me. You gave me life. I see you picking flowers and wonder if you will pick me but you pass by yet again. You have a beautiful bouquet of flowers but that bouquet doesn’t include me.

You planted me. You gave me life. I start to die. All that remains are the white seeds of my flower. I have lost all hope.

You planted me. You gave me life. And in the moment, a child notices me. They pick me amongst all of the other beautiful, vibrant flowers in the garden. Me. They blow my seeds with so much excitement and I fly away.

You planted me. You gave me life. Maybe the wind will carry me to a better place where I can grow and finally be seen.

Until next time,

Allison

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts, please contact the Suicide Hotline by texting 988. ❤️

Taylor Swift is Coming!

So, Emily (eleven years old) wants to go see Taylor Swift… again. I took her back in the summer and she really enjoyed the concert, so much so, that Taylor Swift is all she watches on YouTube or TikTok now.

She found out that Taylor Swift is coming back to the United States in October and she would like to go to the concert. We looked up tickets and they are about $1300 each for the nose bleed section. We looked into the concert in New Orleans which means we need flights, hotel, a car and food. I love me some New Orleans food! But I digress.

I am concerned that she didn’t bat an eye when we tallied up all of the costs and it came to $3800. 🤯 I am struggling because she has already been to the concert and secondly everything would be close to 4K. Like, I can’t afford that, who can?

I can’t tell if I am raising an entitled kid or if I am raising someone so excited about a pop star that she would do anything to see her again. Maybe it’s a bit of both?

I hate the fact that she feels like she should be able to go because I can’t justify spending all that money on a weekend. She is absolutely devastated because my husband and I can’t fathom spending that money.

However, deep down, I feel guilty that I can’t give her everything she wants. I feel bad that I can’t pack her up and say, let’s jump on a plane and head to see Tay Tay. I wish I could do that.

So we made a deal. She has to come up with almost half of the money in order to go. The worst part is that raising $1500 by September is just impossible for an eleven year old. She wants to do stuff like a hot chocolate stand and I’m like, go babysit. Either way, I feel like I am setting her up for failure. I keep telling her not to get her hopes up.

So I guess the point of this blog is to:

1) Try to figure out if I am raising an entitled kid or if I am raising someone who just loves Taylor so much that she would do anything to get back to the concert.

2) Try to understand why I feel so guilty as a parent because I can’t give her what she wants.

I just don’t know. I don’t know what to do because I want to teach her the importance of money and working hard and saving and the other part of me wishes I was a millionaire and could give her everything.

Maybe that is a sign that we are good parents. Wanting to give your child everything but wanting them to understand the value of hard work and earning things on your own.

And if Taylor Swift reads this, we love you! I was indifferent and then I saw you in concert and you changed my mind entirely. Oh and Emily loves you, like, I think she loves you more than me. Lol

Until next time,

Die hard Swifties over here.