I told her quite blatantly. In fact, it was probably a tad disrespectful. But, I knew it.
I told her that I wanted to be a doctor, and a ballerina, and a soccer player, and a pianist (and of course I could be all of those). She smiled and said "ok." Then, she proceeded to tell me that I could do anything I set my mind to.
When I would mess up, she would gently remind me that "you are practically perfect in every way- 99.99%. We're just working on that .01%." After she would say that, I couldn't take myself seriously anymore. We'd chuckle (or I'd give her a you're-insane-and-totally-wrong face).
I made my own coffee and smoothie house called "Starducks" (original, no?). She invested (or graciously donated) money to help get the business off the ground. Never did she tell me that I was stupid to think that a coffee shop on our back porch would actually turn a profit. But, I believed it.
My mom still believes in me the same way she did when I was 3, 5, and 11. It's crazy, really. Some of my ideas (ok, a lot of them) are ridiculous and will never work. She'll gently tell me that, then say "well, if you really want it. Go for it."
Even today, she still tells me "you're practically perfect in every way." And, I feel the same way about her.
(My, how time flies when you're having fun)