Big Calling, Big Picture


“Did you see THAT tweet?” a friend texted.

No, actually I haven’t been on Twitter in so long I forgot I’m onTwitter. I mean, it’s hard to take it seriously when adults (much less elected officials) need the adult version of a social media chaperone after 7:00 PM. Not entirely sure what happens after dark that makes so many perk up, but clearly it’s not the cup of coffee most of our moms are consuming as they strive toward crossing the finish line of their day. That is, if they are one of the lucky ones blessed with a finish line – neurotypical kids who actually end their day with sleep.

Twitter to me is the adult version of playground bully zone. Unsupervised immature behavior that we all say we hate, yet continue to allow & even encourage it (especially if it fits your agenda). Don’t get me wrong, no one loves a good comeback to prove a point more than I do. As a matter of fact, I’ve been told sarcasm might just be my middle name. However, you can go ahead and call me old fashioned too, because I believe in a basic respect for human kind. You know, the golden rule of treat others the way you want to be treated. Yes, social media included.

So, I was pleasantly surprised when my friend texted me the tweet:

Not only did I avoid logging-in to the bully zone today thanks to her texting me the tweet, but it’s not even that bad. Might be a figment of my imagination but considering our typical fan mail, I think this person might like us! Or at least have some potential to like us. Or not hate us. Maybe?! 🤷‍♀️ #onecandream

While I was hardly crying tears of sorrow over their assessment of our organization’s efforts, it certainly did get my mind going. Truth be told, as a parent of a child with special needs, I’m well-versed in disappointment and tough criticism. I suppose my lack of overly dramatic reaction to the May 22nd run-offs could be explained by the fact that I, like many of you, learned these lessons years ago.

Let me explain.

Those who know TFVC well are constantly applauding our movement of happy warriors, positive content, and an “all in” attitude. I mean, what’s not to be happy, excited, and all in about?

Much like motherhood, we didn’t sign up for a perfect journey or perfect children. We really signed up for the opposite: the hard work, the long nights, the ups and the downs, the everything in between. We signed up for progress, not perfection. We signed up for the good and the bad, the wins and the losses. We signed up for the long term payoff: the end result.

When I look back at the Primaries in its entirety, let me tell you what makes me proud:
– The breastfeeding homeschooling mom who block walked every single week.
– The mom of a special needs child who drove 70 miles each way to volunteer while her child was in therapy.
– The husbands who lovingly supported their wives by holding down the fort while she was gone, or the men who said, “I’ll drive, where are we going?”
– The single moms who haven’t had a minute of peace in months, but their determination was fueled by knowing if she doesn’t do it, who will?
– Those who showed up and gave all they had to give knowing whatever they could possibly muster up wouldn’t be enough, but they weren’t called to victory, they were called to do the work.

And the work they did do! A lot of work. Tireless. Thankless. Work.

I think about the last few years; the humble beginnings in 2015 just desperately wanting the be heard, to now in 2018 being one of the fastest growing movements in Texas. A movement.

And, if I’m really getting sentimental, I might just tear up with emotion recalling March 6th, 2018. A moment in history that can never be stripped away, when this little group of “insignificant” moms proved to be anything but insignificant.

Much like life in general (and abundantly in parenting, especially special needs parenting), this journey isn’t perfect. Far from it. But being ALL
IN was NEVER about being all in for victory. It always was, and will always be,  about being all in for our children and our future. I will rest easy knowing my team, my movement gave all we had to give.

With love and gratitude,
Jackie Schlegel

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