I love my just-regular mustang.

Corbin sent me a message this morning that he needed a pill bottle for a project at school. I donned my snazzyist jogging pants and jacket to cover my stretched-out sleeping shirt, and hopped out the door to drop it off on the drop-off table. When I arrived there were a whole bunch of people in line in the office. Since I needed to send a message to Corbin’s classroom to tell him I had dropped the stuff, I had to get in line amongst all of the other fancy folks in all my semi-disheveled glory. Clearly most of these people had come from work for something special. When I walked through the door, a cheerful lady asked, “Are you the parent of a Magnificent Mustang.” I looked down at the Walgreens variety knock-off Crocs I was wearing and just said, “Um no, just a regular old mustang today.” The truth is that poor Corbin is probably never going to get the distinction of being Magnificent anything here in The Woodlands. If 10 kids are talking, Corbin gets singled out and sent into the hall. Unfortunately my child has been “labeled” at some point, and can do no right. The thing about him is that he is exceptional. Like truly exceptional. His creativity and sweetness can be unparalleled by any other 12-year-old I have ever met. The problem is that he is mischievous and unfortunately he hasn’t mastered the teacher-winning-over Eddie Haskell thing. I pray that one day a teacher will truly take the time to see and know him someday. It’s partly my fault. We live in a place chock full of “Helicopter Moms.” I tried to be one, but I require gainful employment in my life. Schools here don’t have teacher’s aides like most schools have because there are just so many moms around they don’t need them. That is a really great thing because we can afford to pay the teachers a bit more with the funds that weren’t used on aides, giving us the ability to have super awesome teachers. Unfortunately it causes a culture of unprofessional gossip and exclusiveness because the parent volunteers aren’t trained or held to any standards regarding their interpersonal relations. So in addition to the fact that he can be a stinker, that’s another one of the ways he has been labeled. He has lots of friends but never gets invited to parties etc. It’s just the way it is here. I could probably have a whole bunch of meetings and raise a big stink which would ultimately just hurt his situation more. I know that God has a plan for Corbin and he has placed him in this seemingly impossible situation to teach him (and me) something he will need. All I can do is trust God, and continue to love my secretly Magnificent Mustang.

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