Don’t call me a good mother.

For being good somehow means doing all the “right things”. And to be honest, I’m not necessarily all that concerned about doing the “right things”.

I’m more concerned about doing the brave thing. The thing that is needed to be done even when nobody understands. The thing that might raise a few eyebrows. Or even shock some folks. The thing that is contrary to what is popular or trendy. Contrary to opinions, charts and reports. Contrary to what everyone says is right.

For I am more concerned about the man my child will become one day. Even more than my own concern for being rated good.

For you see, I am not merely raising a child. I am raising a new race of man. A father. A husband. A friend. A team mate. A son. A seeker. A world citizen.

And because of that…