Thursday, February 7, 2013

Last night I didn't sleep well. I just tossed and turned and kept waking up from really strange dreams about the current book I'm reading (Red Hat Club by Haywood Smith but I cannot recommend it because the language is deplorable; however, I am halfway through and probably should find out what happens at the end...).

Confession time:

I am agonizing over my daughters decision to play (or not to play) softball this year.

Did I just say that?

I think someone needs to gently remind me that I am not my daughter. And she is not me.

Is this why sports are so competitive these days? Because parents think that they and their children are one and the same? Because honestly, I might be feeling a little of that right now.

More than anything, though, I don't want my daughter to be like me. I never played team sports (except for a short cheerleading stint in 1984), and stunk at the ones they made you play during gym class (also hated gym class, probably because I never got chosen til it was me and the kid who couldn't run fast at the end...don't even lie, you know you had a kid who couldn't run fast in your gym class.). One time, I even made a basketball goal with a volleyball during a gym class volleyball game. Collective groan from all teams. Sigh. I was involved with other things, like dance and horseback riding, but never really stuck with them, so by the time I got to high school, I didn't have anything to really call my own. However, the choices I did make growing up contributed to who I am today. And I know the same will be true for her.

But I am still trying to choose them all for her...

I guess I just want my daughter to feel involved, connected, part of a group. Is that so bad??

We recently watched Hotel Transylvania about Count Dracula and his daughter, who he tries to keep under his protective wing. Forever. Except Mavis Dracula wants to fly. Be her own person. Which is perfectly permissible when the movie is a cartoon and everything turns out peachy at the end. However, every good cartoon has a moral at the end, and my nagging thought is this: by forcing my own daughter to do the things that I want her to do (and incidentally, the things I didn't do), am I really allowing her to be her own person?

I'll not be answering that question out loud.

So here are some things that I did growing up that have contributed to who I am today:

A performer...


That's me in the middle. I hear the unitard is making a sweeping comeback.

A cheerleader...
Only one of the many cat-like moves I could perform out on the field.

A hairstylist...
What is with the bag on the head? Is this a redneck shower cap?

A contortionist...
Do not even ask because I could not even begin to tell you.

An artist...
My mom always used to wave at the camera. I must have gotten this from her. Why?

A drag queen...
In case you didn't know, this is supposed to be Dolly Parton, circa 1980-ish. Note the extra-large bosoms.

A make-up artist...
Um...I don't know what happened, nor do I remember this. Apparently, I was experimenting with foundation as a blusher. Cute. Incidentally, I still really love make-up.

An exercise enthusiast (ok, so that one stuck!)...
So yes, the unfortunate soul to the left would be me, with my cool bandanna-thing on my head. I do not think I still look like this when I work out, but I could be wrong.
An equestrian...
I loved horseback riding!

And who is my sweet daughter?

I guess she needs to be the one to discover that.

1 comment:

  1. Love these pictures!!! And I think you're on to something by knowing you need let Anna decide who she will become. She's a beautiful, smart, funny young lady...I have no doubt she will eventually find her niche and thrive. She is blessed to have a mom who cares so much about her and encourages her to be involved! :)