Cabin Feveror Psychosis

Day Five of the "illness". JIllian was really so much better today and could have, should have returned to the gym. But her head hurt all morning and into the afternoon, and I was sure that go upside down would be the worst thing for that headache, so I allowed her to stay at home.

Sad part is, I didn't forgive her. I wanted her to be begging to return to the gym. I know I have about lost patience with everything being cooped up here for so many days. But she seemed content to watch another segment of SpongeBob Squarepants and I finally had to put a ban on TV this afternoon to save what was left of my nerves.

But the worst part was that I admitted to her my disappointment that she cared so little about missing gym training. Granted, she has been doing gymnastics since before she could walk, so a few days off is more of a novelty than learning a double twising layout. But it irritates me to the core that she cannot see the forest for the trees in her life. She is an 11 year old Level 8 gymnast. There are less than 500 in the country like her. By next year there will be less than 300. And the numbers keep dropping. If she will stay with this sport, she will rise to the top of the pack and gain noteriety from many directions.

But what are her dreams? I have plenty for her that I would be glad to give, even wrapped in shiny paper with gold curly ribbon. She would be wise to persue a career with Cirque du Soleil even if it took her years to get on with them. She is a performer at heart and would love that lifestyle. No wait, maybe it is me that would love that lifestyle. What if my daughter decides to be an accountant and wear pumps instead of traveling barefooted through life? Of course I will still love her. Love has no boundaries for us. But disappointment and despair can cut so deeply that the blood leaves behind stains that see and see and see.

I want her to be free, but not without tools and maps. I want her to do what she loves, but to love what she is doing right now. And I most of all want her to learn somethng from me, as all the others have failed to do. I have held on too long to the idea that with this child it could be different.

Tomorrow she will return to the gym. For that first horrible day after sickness when the coach says he will be easy on her, but seems to also want to punish her for staying home sick. I will watch a little, until I can leave satisfied that she is getting back in her groove. And I'll pray that she will come home in a cloud of breathless laughter and tell me that all is well in the Kingdom of Giants and that she was Spectactular in her own way. I can't wait for that tomorrow to come.