Give Me a 'C'

I am writing this as I sit in bed, in a hotel room. My oldest daughter is sleeping in the bed next to me. I am listening to her slow, steady breath. Wondering where the time has gone. How has she become a tween already?


'C' is for change. Change in physical and emotional states. Change in behaviors and activities. Simply, change.

This past weekend, A and I traveled out of town for her last cheer competition. She has been participating in competitive cheer since she was six. She will not be trying out again next year.

This was a decision that has been in the works for many months. Although she started the season just as pumped up about all the new and exciting things she would be a part of during this competition year, her enthusiasm about cheer changed, somewhere around late-December, early-January.

She became uninterested, and in fact turned off to the whole thing. All of the sudden, the thing she had once loved, that she had considered her passion, was something she dreaded. How could this be?

The psychologist in me was concerned. Is this a sign of depression? After all, she was losing interest in something that was once at the top of her fun list.

As her mom, I regretted every time I had to tell her to prepare her gym bag or take her to practice. She seemed to truly hate it, even developing physical symptoms in order to avoid attending practices.

But, being a part of a team means you can't quit in the middle of a season. Too many people are counting on you. That meant, she had to continue, at least through the end of the season. So, the countdown began.

I am not disappointed in her. Ultimately, even at ten, I want her to make decisions about participating in the things that she enjoys.

While I resolved myself to the fact that she would not be continuing in cheer, I was still bothered by the why. What was it that made her change her mind, that caused this drastic change?

It had been her decision to join. At the end of kindergarten she came to me and told me she wanted to be a cheerleader. This did not seem like a good idea to me, especially when we got to the try outs and it seemed that most of other girls were tumbling around with ease and my girl couldn't even do a cartwheel.

Yet, she did it. For four years, she has worked hard and accomplished many goals related to improving her tumbling, dancing, jumping, etc.

I know that change is hard. Although she assures me that there won't be, I imagine that there will be things that she misses about the sport and the team.

I started this post with no real goal or lesson. I simply wanted to reflect on the time that has passed and the changes that I have seen in my little girl. I know there will be many more changes in the years to come. And, while I am looking forward to developing a whole new type of relationship with her, I am fearful too.

Fearful that I won't do it right. Fearful about what she will learn from this world. Fearful about the decisions she will have to make.

As I listen to her breathe, I thank God for every breath. For every moment that I have with her.