Editorial: Whose Kids Are the Best

Note: This is on the edge of something that would normally be in my journal instead, but since it is a commentary on some things I blog about, I figured I could share it with anyone who will bear with reading it. I love that by calling it an editorial, it supposes that the other posts are fair and balanced reporting. I'm the editor, though, so if I say it's balanced, it's balanced!

So far in this blog, my children are adorable and innovative little scientists that evolved from monkeys. Fair assessment. Having been a kindergarten teacher, and hearing all of the things people said to me about their children is part of what makes me reflect on how I portray my own. For example, lots of people felt it necessary to tell me all about how brilliant their child was before school ever started, pretty much giving me a, "You'd better do a good job, missy," ultimatum. I decided I don't ever want to be like that, which is good, because I might have been had I not had the teaching experience. (Side notes: There are a few parents of former students who occasionally look at this blog, and no, you were absolutely not like that. Also, I know one person whose child is an actual genius, and you handle it well and should absolutely talk to the teacher about it. Hope everyone feels better. :) )

So, do I think my children are the best? Yes, absolutely! But do I think my children are better than everyone else's children? Not seriously, but one fun caveat of mother/child relationships, I think, is that everyone needs someone to think they're the best, and if your mother doesn't think so, it's tough a lot of times to find someone who does. Then kids can always know that even if they're not the best soccer player, times-tables memorizer, writer, dancer, and on and on, someone sees how wonderful they are, and thinks they're the best. I remember when Josh was about 3 weeks old, holding that tiny baby and and having an overwhelming feeling that he is a wonderful, special boy. I thought he was the greatest. But then, I started to tear up thinking there will come a time where he will face others who don't necessarily think so. I couldn't take it. "Oh, please see how wonderful my baby is," I whispered through my tears. I hope that even if he turns out to be shy or obnoxious or has funny teeth or something, people will love him.

That experience changed my perspective on teaching. I had loved the children who came through my classroom before, but after that I wanted to make extra-sure that I was trying to see each child the way their parents would. Or more than that, as Father in Heaven would. This is not an easy thing to do, in general, but I hope I'm getting better instead of worse at least. I understood more what those parents were saying, and I really don't want to be an "ultimatum" parent, but that's only a few people, and even those are just loving their kids.

Now, I'm not a classroom teacher, but I talk to people everyday about their kids and mine. I don't want to compete. I actually really don't like it. I want to be able to be happy about the successes of other kids, and let their parents know their kids are the best. And in turn, it's fun to share my stories and have other people cheer me on in my bumbling efforts to parent. My neighbor is really good at this. She gave Josh a high-5 the other day when I told her he went potty, and was really happy, even though she wishes her child would do the same. (Note: Josh is extremely random in his bathroom attempts, so this is in no way a brag.)

So, when I blog, I'm being silly about a lot of things, but I hope, as their mother, I do my job of showing how my kids are great. A job's a job, man.