Please Don't Answer Honestly.

  I screwed up big time last night.    I did something that my daughter will hopefully forget but that she will likely remember for a long time.  I wish I could undo it but since life doesn't have a delete button, I am just having to apologize, feel guilty and move on, eventually.  

     At 9:30 at night, Beloved Child came to me and said "Do you want to hear my essay?".  Of course I said "yes".   She began to read it to me and from the beginning I knew I was not going to love it.  I tried to stay quiet and listen all the way through.   It was cliche and had nothing in it that offered a window into why the reader should care about what she was saying.  I pointed out a glaring error and one word that was not a word and let her finish.   She asked "What do you think?" and I said (cue doomsday music) "I hate it. There is nothing in it that tells me about you or why you care about this issue."    Her eyes teared up.   She didn't know what to say.  I didn't know what to say.  I felt like garbage and realized that even when asked for my opinion, I should not give it in this context.  Writing does not come easily for her.  She can tell a story, but if asked to write one, she chokes.  She waits until there is a deadline and leaves little time for revision.  I am a jerk.    She will remember this until she dies and tell her children and grandchildren what I said to her when she was 18.

   I apologized verbally.  I told her I love her.  I wrote her a note telling her that I felt like a jerk and that I was sorry and if given another opportunity to read what she writes, I will do it differently.  I shoveled her car out from the snow this morning.  Neither of us mentioned the essay.  She left with a half hearted "goodbye" to go to school.  

     My tummy hurts.  My heart hurts.   I screwed up.   It is 7:56 a.m. and I am still feeling badly.  She may forgive, but won't likely forget.  Me either.

A Better Day

Less whiny today.  

Maybe I will sleep tonight.   

 A few things looking up. 

   Bright stars in the sky.

One of my very favorite children's books is "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, Awful, No Good and Very Bad Day" by Judith Viorst.   As may be apparent from the title,  Alexander, age approximately 6, is having a bad day - nothing goes his way, from not getting a prize in his breakfast cereal to having his mom buy him sneakers in a color he doesn't like.   Everyone has days like Alexander.  Yesterday it was me.   I felt like a failure as a parent, as a daughter, as a friend and I could not get comfortable enough in my own skin to get to sleep.   I wanted a re-do of my day and to be able to start over and have everything be nice and tidy.   

      Today, I received an email from my mother suggesting a way that Beloved Child could participate financially in her Senior Project in a meaningful way.  My mom suggested that Child could contribute the equivalent of 1/2 the airplane ticket as a donation to the organization where she is doing her super cool project.  This makes TONS more sense than actually paying my mother , who does not need the money.    I felt much more at ease just having that as an option.

    Today Beloved Child got a college acceptance in the mail.  She received 2 others last Friday. She no longer has to worry (unreasonably but a natural fear) that she is a dud and that no school will accept her.  She now has options and probably there will be more to come.  Her mood is improved.

   Today we did NOT get the 4-6 inches of snow predicted, so I did not have to deal with the non delivery of Meals on Wheels to my clients, which would have been complicated following a long weekend.

             Today the sun was shining, which makes everything better.  The snow sparkled.   

      Thank you to you readers and friends who wrote me positive notes yesterday.  It helped.

Money Tree, again.

    Have I said "yes" to often?  Have I made life too easy?   Was I not clear enough about the differences between wants and needs?   Do I always have to be the mean mommy, the one who says the things you do not want to hear?   

    How do you teach a child what sacrifice and delayed gratification means?    My Beloved Child wants to go on a Senior Project this Spring.  In her case this means leaving school three weeks early, flying across the country and being able to work in a volunteer capacity at a very unique and exciting job.   If life was perfect I would hand her a plane ticket and say "Have fun, Sweetie.  I'll see you in three weeks".   If life was easy I would never think twice about spending money on not only her needs but her wants as well.   Life is not perfect.
    My mother has offered to buy the tickets.  I had previously spoken with my mom about why I thought Beloved Child should have the responsibility in obtaining these tickets, that Senior Project is a "want" and a "privilege" and that going on said project should be her own work.  I thought I had explained, but mom and my daughter have worked it out between them, and "Gran'ma offered to buy them."   I feel undermined and as though my lesson is a lost opportunity.  Now I am just petty and mean.  I emailed my mother and asked had she not remembered my request.
    I would give my daughter everything she wants in this world and beyond, if I could and if I thought that would be good for her.  I do not want her to be a privileged and spoiled brat. I want her to appreciate what she has received already and to know the satisfaction of waiting and working for something special, rather than having it plop right into her lap.  I want her to understand making choices, sacrificing something for the sake of something else, or someone else.  There is always going to be something new and shiny around the corner.
   I have been trying to cut her a lot of slack recently - Winter term is always the hardest one for her.  She is stressed with school and applications and .....the list goes on.   And I wonder, have I created this dilemma?     And to top it off, I really would like to take her on a special trip after graduation, but I feel like doing that on top of everything else would be too much.
     I need some perspective and feedback.  I need a money tree.  I probably need a job that pays more than 15 dollars and hour.   I may cry.   I may find another answer.   I may just have to be the mean mama for now.    I need to raise a responsible and thankful child.   I want to give her the world.

Enter 2013

  
      This is the year Beloved Child leaves home to go to college.   She turned 18.  While she is still "my baby" she has the legal rights as an adult to chart her own course, choose a president, get married, pay her own bills.   One she is attempting to do, one she missed by being out of the country and one she has no interest in, at this time.  That just leaves paying the bills, which is still up to mama.

    Applications for schools have been sent and we are waiting for fat envelopes to come in return.  Summer jobs are being contemplated, what and where are TBD.  Every day brings a sigh, "I can't wait to graduate and go to college."  She wants an "away" job this summer, so my time with her at home is far shorter than the arrival of the next school year.    I wonder, "What am I going to do when she is gone?"   

    I have built these 17 years on being a mama.  I have chosen jobs and opportunities by how much time they give me to be at home.  I have picked our homes by school district and neighborhood possibilities for a child.   I have planned vacations and outings by what might interest my girl.  No more will she come home for supper, or stay around on a snow day.  No more trips to the library together.  She took herself to her last medical check up and eye doctor appointment.   It is so weird!

    Never would I dream of holding her back from her hopes and dreams.   Her excitement and curiosity are among her most special qualities.   She dreams and dreams BIG.  Travel, movement, adventure are integral to her personality.   Over and over I am reminded of why I call this blog "Wearing Wings Again". No longer is she satisfied to wear fabric wings and a fairy crown.   She is standing on the edge of our nest, poised to fly.  One, two, three....

   Tonight we played a competitive game of Boggle and then Yahtzee.   She wanted to play with me.
Inside, I was grinning the whole time.   I savor these moments.  I revel in them.  I want to hold them close and remember, when she is gone, that she is still my girl, and I am her mama. With or without wings unfurled, your mama I will always be, Beloved Child.