I love my kid and I want her to know that I care about her problems and issues, but I just can't listen to the stream-of-consciousness, nanosecond-by-nanosecond replay of her day. I'm sure that I did this stuff when I was a kid, but as I recall, I either wrote my issues down in a journal or I called one of my friends and we talked about "this boy looked at me" or "that teacher hates me because." My friends assigned the same hyperimportance to everything that I did. Adults normally dismissed my fears and concerns.
I guess I worry that my kid is depending on me to be her best friend. This is a blessing and a curse, because I don't think that it's appropriate, but I certainly don't want her to shut me out. I want to know what she's doing and how she's feeling, but I know that I don't give satisfactory reactions to the drama that is her life. It's been a couple of decades since seeing boy I liked prompted me to hide in a bathroom, and nowadays nobody makes fun of me for liking someone.
I wish I knew how to both be compassionate and still preserve my mental headspace, before we both end up sniping at each other.
My mother's curse has come to pass.