I woke up a few minutes ago from an awful nightmare.
I had caught a train and discovered I was going the wrong way and the station I had to get off on was populated by hundreds of frightening people lighting fires and lurking around in the smoke.
The dream then changed to living in this tiny apartment with my youngest, The Diva.
She was asleep when suddenly all these people barged in and began making themselves at home, moving my furniture and lighting cigarettes. I told them they had no right to be there and they had to stop smoking immediately as my daughter was in the room.
The one chap said that he had already lit his ciggy and wasn’t going to be rushed. I said that he and his friends could at least go to the balcony, which they did.
Two of his mates then brought in this intricate table which had to be put together like a puzzle. Once complete I saw that it looked exactly like my table, but on closer inspection I and saw that they had extra block pieces that had to be balanced and fitted right in the middle – taking up unnecessary space.
At that point my daughter woke up and she was really dirty for some reason, like she’d been dipped in mud. I picked her up and saw that her right arm was bandaged. The wrapping was coming off so I began removing it. The Diva began to cry telling me her arm was so sore.
In my dream she was the size of a child’s doll!
I woke up!
The last few days have really taken their toll on us both. After meeting with the principal and teacher I was stressed and angry and frustrated. A day later they sent home forms for me to fill in to have my daughter assessed for ADD. They put huge pressure on me when I said I couldn’t afford a psychologist and I asked instead for the local one assigned to the schools. They balked at that idea as it could take months and they said they were desperate! So there I was with a wad of forms which would cost R1350 (subsidised) to complete, not including all the meds and counselling that could follow!
By Friday night I was a total wreck. I was being hard on The Diva pressurising her to behave like some damn perfect automaton. I was hard on myself trying to figure out a way to conjure money out of thin air and then still beating myself up for not being able to figure out how.
And then I prayed for help.
The answer was like a gentle kiss:
‘The only thing that matters is your daughter and what SHE needs – forget what the teachers are saying and doing, what does your child need the most?’
The chains fell off with a resounding crash!
I realised that I had allowed myself to be propelled by the fear and loathing of two women who truly had yet to prove that they had my daughter’s best interests at heart. They wanted instant solutions at all costs and if I continued to be swayed by them, that cost would be my child’s undoing.
What my daughter needed was to be loved and accepted, not made to feel bad. What she needed most was her mommies loving arms around her, reassuring her and making her feel safe again.
Whatever steps I take must ensure the very best solution for HER – teachers be damned! She is the babe and I am the adult. The burden of change and decision must be mine to carry and teach – not hers!
As her mother it is up to me to find the strength and the faith to move mountains and to protect her from the burden of her teachers fear and influence..
If I had any doubts before, they were certainly cleared up through my dream!
I don’t know yet what the solution is, but I know the Universe ALWAYS has one.
It is my ‘job’ too look for it –
It is my daughters ‘job’ to flourish while I do!
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.