A new kind of hurt

It was only about an hour ago when I decided I would withdraw Lily from her precious Ballet classes. Billy wasn't keen on the idea, but let's face it, I am the one who gets her there, wait while she dances, and then pulls her away from her friends. I have battled with the idea, feeling such guilt at taking away something she enjoys so much.

Unfortunately, her ballet day falls on my only weekday off work and it literally kills me to pull it off. I have felt so heavy hearted just having to make the decision, you would think I was taking away her privilege to breath clean air. Wise mothers before me have warned, "get out while you can" and I know they are right. At four years old, everyday is a new adventure, no matter what I fill it with. If I let her get any more attached to her beloved ballet, it will be an even more difficult decision. If you don't know any mothers of ballerinas, let me tell you, this is hardcore stuff. We are talking 4 nights a week, hundreds of dollars in costumes and oodles of responsibility in fund raising. I don't think I have it in me. I don't know if I have it in me to take it away, either.

So, today is the last day of the ballet semester; where parent's come to watch what the girls have learned. Everything was going according to schedule, good lunch, a little down time after a morning with friends and she even had her tights and leotard on. And then all hell broke loose.

Shoes, where are the @#$%& Shoes!! Its a little known fact that I hate to bend over and look under anything. Looking under a bed is like sticking a finger down my throat--I mean torture. By the time I finished hunting for the shoes, I was so nauseous I was ready to throw in the towel (or throw up the towel). I sent Lily to find Billy and see if he could back me up...He bent down and looked under all of the same furniture, but with a flashlight. Still no shoes. I told Lily we were already 5 minutes late and she would have to go without shoes. Her response was much like one I would expect if I was removing her fingernails with pliers. We dragged her into the car and I tried to encourage her by mentioning that I had seen other little girls without shoes and it was no big deal. Well, it was a big deal to her. Her exact words, "I can't take this anymore and I just can't believe this is happening!" By this time, Billy had lost his patience and was threatening not to go.

Tantrum intensifies. She begs to go, and I mean begs. She is just begging not to go without shoes. How does a mommy fix this situation? I know I could get her there and make it work. I can talk that girl off a cliff, but her Father gave her the ultimatum and I have to back him up. So, he wrestled her back out of the car, spanked her for behaving horribly and ended any chance I had to watch my little girl bounce around like a giddy pixie.

I know for certain that I am far more devastated than she is. She won't remember, but I will. After her punishment was over, she hugged me and apologized for pitching such a fit. We hugged on the couch, crying into each others arms. "I never want to feel this way again, " she said. Get ready babe, 'cause we are just getting started.

I think she knows I understand. I think she sensed me owning her disappointment and was comforted to share it. Maybe that's how mommy's fix it. We share it.