My daughter got a love note from pre-school (called a “Happy Gram”) that praised her manners, her kindness, and her developmental growth. I posted it on Facebook as a brag on her. Not thinking about anything else, just wanted to share that my kid is pretty great—which is true—and that she was acknowledged for being great by someone else other than me or D.
So many people responded that she is great because we are. That we are good parents and teach her right, etc. It’s funny to me because I never thought of her accomplishments as my own. Never. I am not proud of her because it reflects well on me—I just never thought of it that way—I am proud of her because she is awesome and awesomely herself. She has had her own thing going on since she was like 3 months old. She was born with a sense of self that takes the rest of us slobs a lifetime to develop/cultivate. I am usually in awe of her.
S is her own unique person. And sometimes I think that we are rude and terse by comparison. She elevates us. She is better/kinder/gentler/funnier than we are for sure. Man, I better try a little harder no? She might start slipping by way of my bad example. The what will the FB crowd say, “Boo, bad mommy!”
I am proud of my kid because she is herself. She is cool, naturally, without artifice. We must be doing something right, but hell if I know what “it” is. My love song to her is always that she keeps being herself. And that we, as her parents, try hard to let her.
Don’t slip on the ice now, you might miss spring; it’s coming, I promise.