A couple of weeks ago, my family
and I squeezed a last-minute vacation out of summer, staying near the beach at a
family-friendly suite-style hotel.
As we finished our buffet breakfast
outside in the pleasant August breeze and chatted about whether the rubbery
omelet, the chunky lukewarm sausage gravy, or the dishwater coffee was the best
of the worst food we had just eaten, a nearby mother of two small girls launched
a chirpy, one-sided monologue onto her angel children, listing each of their
many, many positive attributes and skill sets.
“You are a perfect swimmer.” “Your
dress is pretty.” “Your hair is very blonde.”
When her deluge of compliments dried up, the eldest one demanded:
“I WANT A SNACK.”
The mom ignored her, and cooed in
reply,
“You’re growing so much. I’m so proud of you.”
I snorted abruptly. Audibly.
My 14-year-old son stared at me, eyes wide in shock and amusement. Usually I keep my rudeness in check.
Thankfully, he was the only one
who noticed, and I escaped a confrontation.
I am a parent. A mother.
A spit-cleaning, minivan-driving, kid’s picture on a button-wearing MOMMY
of two practically perfect children.
Children who excel in school, behave
at and away from home, enjoy various extracurricular activities, clean their rooms
and empty the dishwasher, have great hair and beautiful eyes, and give me many opportunities
to note their accomplishments, no matter how effortful or naturally-occurring.
I love watching them grow into the
people they are becoming. I have spent
the last decade-plus happy and relieved at the passing of certain milestones
(Sleeping through the night. Shoe
tying. Finishing elementary school. Passing geometry. Noticing crumbs on the counter.)
They’re growing. They’re maturing. They have conversations with other adults who
aren’t their parents. They laugh and
joke with friends, make plans, and do certain things with minimal
supervision. They do laundry and save
money to buy stuff they want. They are
supposed to do these things. They have been taught to do these things. The world
expects them to do these things.
Pride has nothing to do with these
things.
Pride is not a natural feeling for
me. My personal horn-tooting is infrequent;
there will always be someone who has done the same and better. I keep my head in the game, do my work, and
sometimes I am the first and the best. I
am aware that someone may surpass me immediately. Having confidence and cultivating my
abilities is more important than trying to win every race. I don’t dwell on my accomplishments long
enough to feel pride, much less announce
it. I’m the same way with my children.
I was raised during a time when normal
parents didn’t shout their children’s praises from every mountaintop. Bragging was considered déclassé, unnecessary – everybody’s proud of
their own kid for something. This may have led me on a bumpy road to
self-confidence; I lived most of my life without a naturally-occurring tendency
to chuck myself on the chin each morning with a “you got this, girl.” But I’m an adult, and I’m over it.
When you have kids, you have the
chance to do things differently. We all
want our kids to feel special; the current cultural norm is to make sure they do. I want mine to know they are wholly able to
do many things well, but I’m careful to avoid creating two more narcissists for
the world to deal with. It’s a tough
balance.
Sometimes I wonder if my
expectations are too high. I certainly
don’t want to teach my children that they are never good enough, thanks to my
stingy declarations of pride. Should I practice
pride more? This is the way people talk
to and about their children, if I am to use this ordinary mother on the parking
lot porch of a suburban hotel as an example.
Is there a difference between pride and appreciation? I love my kids and value their
accomplishments, but I can’t say I’m full of pride for every good thing they do. They haven’t overcome extraordinary
obstacles, achieved superhuman feats, or cured cancer. Can I just say “I’m happy with who they are
today”? Or am I just a big old
meanie?
I think of that little girl at the
hotel. The girl whose mother ignored her
and listened only to her own pride, the girl who was deprived of a lesson on
manners because her mother felt it was more important to express how her child
makes her feel. I consider the pressure a kid faces when
raised to believe that her very being brings pride to her parents. I think about the implications of pride when
there’s no rationale behind it. What
happens to kids who are conditioned to believe that they bring pride to their
parents just for existing – what happens when they screw up?
More than wanting to admonish the mother, I want to hug that child. And then I realize: that little girl will
probably turn out okay. Her mother loves
her; this is how she shows it.
Life is a social experiment, and
we are all testing different theories.
Like everyone else, I do what makes sense for the people in my family,
taking into consideration individual tendencies and past research, and tweaking
parameters when needed. It’s perpetual
trial and error. I might not shower my
children with declarations of pride on the regular, but they do know that I love them.
The other day, my daughter went to
the doctor for a physical. She had grown
almost four inches in the last year. “Wow!”
exclaimed the pediatrician. “You’ve grown
so much!”
I didn’t say it, but it was on the
tip of my tongue. My daughter looked at
me, and we shared a smile, our new family joke unspoken. I may not be proud of her for
growing, but she knows love. They both
do.
*******
YOUR KIDS NOTICE CRUMBS ON THE COUNTER???
ReplyDeleteSeriously though, I hear what you are saying. It sounds like we have very similar parenting styles - reasonable expectations and respect (if not pride) for when they've been met.
And, of course, love all around.
Yes. They notice. They don't always do anything about it, but they notice.
DeleteI get this... I SO get this. There is such a fine line between empowering our kids with self worth and leading them into self indulgence and entitlement... I'm all about praising my kids for who they are and their accomplishments... but I think I'm more about teaching them humility and respect. I think that mom will create the groundwork for some rough challenges ahead... it's revealing in the interactions with her child.
ReplyDeleteEmpowering and indulging are two very different things for sure. I think somehow they got confused. Pride ain't what it used to be. ;)
DeleteI do think parents have different ways of expressing how proud they are of their children. I always try to compliment mine when they do something kind or "extra" good, if that makes sense. Just "being" takes it a little too far for me. :) Your raising great kids, Andrea. Just the fact that your girl got the joke at he doctor proves that.
ReplyDelete