Dream Crusher

February 26, 2014

In the 21 years that I have been a mother, this week was the first time that a child said to me, “You’re crushing my dreams!”  What was so astonishing was that it came out of the mouth of my eleven year old baby girl who has always been so adorably sweet and kind.  She hasn’t exhibited anything but warm affection prior to her preteen developing body. I’ll explain the situation in a minute, but it was unfortunately a “Dan in real Life” moment where I just couldn’t help myself and I laughed. In the movie, a 13-year-old daughter accuses her conscientious father of being a “Murderer of Love” for not allowing her to date.  And then the next moment was like “You’ve got mail,” where Camy instantly had regret for saying what popped into her mouth.  Sigh!  I think we both have been feeling stress in our lives lately.  She put a tender note on my pillow that tells me she’s sorry and that she knows I’m the one person that cares about her dreams more than anyone else.  She concluded by maturely asking me that we both try to forget that it happened because she believes “it will be the best for both of us.” 

Why does this make me smile?  I have no idea, but her frustration with me was because I told her we needed to go to piano lessons 15 minutes earlier than normal at her teacher’s request because she picked up another student following us.  (Never mind the fact that we are her only free student and I do household chore items for her while I’m there.)  Camarie started a dance class with her best friend, right after piano and it makes for a long Tuesday.  Camy had asked to not go to piano and I told her that she committed to piano first and that if anything changed, it would be the dance class since she is only taking it to feel comfortable trying out for Junior high drill team next month.  Not my best mothering moment. Even though I agree that we should both try to forget the accusation, it was a reminder to me that although I have been so blessed with GOOD children, they are still tender saplings. To be a GOOD mother, I can’t get lazy with my last child and not let her voice her feelings so she can make good choices, which in my experience she always does.  In essence, I’ve been confronted with middle age- motherits (I just made that up). The treatment: hugs, kisses and chocolate chip cookies!