Thursday, October 17, 2013


Someone said my child was smart today.

I was speechless.

I didn't know what to say.  I'm ashamed of what popped into my head.

I've bought into the "tell a kid they're smart and they won't work as hard" mentality.  So I focus on "good try."  Or "I'm proud you're working so hard on this."

But outside our little house... smart is still the word.  I hadn't thought about the lack of it bothering me. Until I stood there, at a loss for words, because someone called my child smart.

A refreshing point of view, and yet, a dagger through my mother's soul.  How do I view my own child?  I can get so bogged down with the problems that I don't see what she can do.  I focus so much on getting her to put two words together that I don't enjoy the way she says the one word unlike anyone else, or I don't appreciate how she signs please so often her sister thinks it's a sure way of getting a bite of what we're eating.

How to balance realism with hope, knowing what needs to be worked on with what can be celebrated?  I haven't figured it out yet.  Some days, I can think of little else.  Others, I convince myself we're normal and everyone else is advanced.  And who defines normal anyway?

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