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mom fail

(I have found the back way into my blog again after not being able to access for years.  So I found this unpublished blog post.  And it feels relevant today as I parent a tween. Do other mothers of preteen girls feel like they are failing too? Feeling as if we can't quite do/say/don't say the correct thing in this 'era'? Anyone else hoping to be rescued from the confusion of 6th graders?)

I have Gianna’s little friend Dena (grateful that all these years later they are still connected) to thank for coming to my rescue. The girls were in their very first ballet dance recital. They had just turned 3. All of them were dressed in their tutus and buns with absolutely no regard for the practiced choreography, but happily smiling and waving from the stage none the less. I thought my heart might explode from the cuteness.

Two minutes later when the dance was over, I realized in horror that all the parents except us had brought the customary bouquet of flowers. Ugh! What? How could I have forgotten? Wait. Let’s be real. How was I the only one who didn’t know this was expected of me? I didn’t forget. I just didn’t think about it or even KNOW I should pick up a bouquet of flowers.

Dena and Gianna
I was desperately hoping Gianna wouldn’t notice that every other dancer had some flowers. I mean, it could happen, right? Gianna turned to me and sweetly said, “Mommy, where’s my flowers?” Oh man. Talk about a soul crushing moment for me. I have always talked with Gianna about kindness and being aware of other people. I’m always jabbering about how we have to think of others, not just ourselves. And here I hadn’t been thinking of her that day. I was thinking about my to do list and how I was going to get dinner on the table and her dressed and to the recital on time. It was all about what I was doing, not about how she might be feeling. It takes confidence and bravery to go on a stage at 3 and perform! Had I stopped to think about her, I might have thought about celebrating her victory. I was stammering when Dena walked over and piped up in her gentle, quiet voice: “Gianna, you can have one of mine.” Gianna, with a big, warm smile, took the flower gave Dena a big hug and did a                                                                                     twirl.  Redemption through a child’s kindness.




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