“I’m Countless, Mom.”

“I’m countless, Mom!” My daughter, Lily, just told me this when I asked her to count the number of butterflies on a page in her workbook. The correct answer would have been five, but following directions is something my daughter is not fond of.

She has heard the word before, most likely from me when I was telling someone about countless possibilities of something. And like any five year old, she misinterpreted the word. When I asked her to explain her reasoning on how she is countless, she told me it’s because she is out of numbers and therefore cannot count.

Anything to get out of doing work. I’m usually meet with a yawn and her saying she is too tired to do something. In a way, it’s nice to see a new excuse.

What she doesn’t understand is she is going to be learning countless things throughout her life. She’s already learned countless things so far, like putting on shoes, counting to ten, walking, talking, and so much more. At the age of five, her mind is already learning and has already learned many things. She is a smart little girl. I have a feeling there will be a day when she is the one teaching me things.

So while she may be “countless” right now, she won’t be in the future. Soon she will be able to count all the way to 100, something she currently feels like is impossible. And, like I was with the workbook page, I will be there on the side cheering her on while she learns countless new things.

This post is in response to today’s Daily Prompt: Countless.
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“It’s Just a Phase”

“It’s just a phase.”

I am sure everyone has heard or said that at least once in their life, if not more. Kids seem to go through different phases daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly while they are trying to figure out who they are.

I’ve been through my fair share of phases as well. Only wearing black, only wearing white. Refusing to eat anything that starts with the letter B. Boys are icky, boys are amazing, boys smell, boys are my whole wide world. Suffice to say, I am no longer as boy crazy and find myself somewhere in the middle of the two.

My mother’s personal favorite of my phases when I was convinced pants were trying to eat my butt. I would only agree to wear dresses or skirts and cried if a child size pair of pants were in the same room as me.

These types of phases help a child learn who they are, what they want, what they like and don’t like. I’ve since learned that pants are alright and have no issue wearing them. I still love wearing all black because I find it fitting, but I will throw it other colors finally.

I am thankful to my parents for allowing me to try my different phases, within reason. They did put their foot down over a few things, like when I thought there was no need for clothes at the age of ten. It helped shape me who I am today.

Now as a parent, I hope to help my children too. If they aren’t dangerous or unacceptable, I have no issue letting my son or daughter go through whichever phase they are. “It’s just a phase” after all. They may outgrow it or learn to make it part of who they are. I should not stop them from who they think they are or who they want to be and therefore I see no reason to stop it.

Life is all about phases. Everyone goes through them, everyone experiences them. Everything in life can be seen as a stage: birth, childhood, teens, midlife crisis, death and dying. You cannot stop those phases.

This post is in response to the Daily Prompt: Phase

Dreams: Don’t Give Up

Dreams. Everyone has them. Some people dream big, of things like fame, fortune, fairy-tale romances. Other people dream small, of things like a new car, retirement. Everyone has a dream for themselves and what the future may hold.

As a child, I always dreamed of being a famous writer. I dreamed of being a best seller novelist or an award winning journalist. That dream died out in high school when I had my journalist teacher embarrass me in front of the class, calling me and my writing garbage. I tried my best, but my best wasn’t good enough.

It’s amazing how easy someone can crush a person’s dream. Perhaps I just wasn’t strong enough to stomach the criticism that was thrown at me. I always knew I wasn’t the best writer, but I had hoped that the person who was a teacher would teach me a thing or two to help me improve. However, I was wrong and the only thing I learned was to give up on a dream. Silly me, right?

I have always had other dreams, of course, but writing was always number one. Maybe I shouldn’t have given up so easily because of one teacher. He wasn’t even that good of a teacher, but it still hurt that someone would tear me down so quickly and easy. At the age of 15 years old, it must have been to much for someone like me.

I no longer reach for the stars in my dreams; instead, I play it safe and keep it more realistic. Currently, my dream is to get back into school and figure out what to do for my future. Once I accomplish that, then I can dream of other things, slightly bigger things.

Just remember how you talk to a person when discussing their dreams. Rather than crush their dream, support them, and if able, help them fulfill their dreams. You never know what a person is capable of before they are even given the chance to try. Sometimes, they may amaze you.

This post was in response to the Daily Prompt: Dream