The Prodigal Son
My son is perfect. People say this all the time. He's gorgeous, he's nice, he's got impeccable manners, he's smart, he's funny, he's creative, he's obedient. Last week, TWGH had a conference with his kindergarten teacher who told him that, GASP, she has had to speak with him quite firmly about acting silly and being a little wild. She was so happy. My husband was happy, too. It was like a little party right there at the conference! Hooray! He misbehaves!
When the child was about six months old, I went to one of the eighty thousand pediatrician appointments kids seem to have between birth and 3 years, and expressed, lip no doubt trembling, concern that he was having trouble going to sleep. Sometimes, I confessed, he cried for a minute or two, and, even worse, sometimes he only slept for 11 hours at a time. Our pediatrician - who is really more like my own therapist than my children's doctor - narrowed her eyes, looked at me for a minute or two and then said, very gently, and very quietly, "Please don't ever tell anyone else what you just told me. Your friends will hate you." She is a wise, wise woman.
It's not that we haven't ever had any issues...he's a kid, after all. He's had tantrums, he thinks the word "fart" is the funniest utterance ever - second only to the actual act of farting, we've had the occasional health concern, he didn't pronounce r's until last year, he had a protracted and totally alarming fascination with the Little Mermaid when he was only two, he goes through weird phases like kids do (you know, the finger chewing phase, the hair twisting phase, the pants adjusting phase, the making weird noises phase), but it would be disingenuous to say that he's ever given us serious trouble.
Well...I've got some more good news for the kindergarten teacher and TWGH! Hold on to your hats, folks. Today at his six year check-up, when the doctor asked him how much TV he watches he TOTALLY busted me by looking at me first to see if I was making a face or if I was cool with him telling the truth. I was making a face. He told the truth. He watches too much TV. So do I. I tried to divert her attention by mentioning "this really great website I check ALL the time called commonsensemedia.org, because it's a really great resource for parents who aren't Christian conservatives but maybe don't want their kids watching autopsies or teenagers doing the lambada." I don't think she bought it.
Then the little twerp readily admitted that sometimes he doesn't wear a helmet when he's scootering in the driveway and that he doesn't always brush his teeth in the morning. Then he didn't say thank you when she told him he didn't need a shot. And he was so annoyed that I was bringing him back to school after his appointment that needled me until I agreed to buy him an ice cream sandwich. So, you see, he's not perfect, and I am so proud of him. He comes by his lack of perfection honestly, though. He inherited it from me and from his father.
When the child was about six months old, I went to one of the eighty thousand pediatrician appointments kids seem to have between birth and 3 years, and expressed, lip no doubt trembling, concern that he was having trouble going to sleep. Sometimes, I confessed, he cried for a minute or two, and, even worse, sometimes he only slept for 11 hours at a time. Our pediatrician - who is really more like my own therapist than my children's doctor - narrowed her eyes, looked at me for a minute or two and then said, very gently, and very quietly, "Please don't ever tell anyone else what you just told me. Your friends will hate you." She is a wise, wise woman.
It's not that we haven't ever had any issues...he's a kid, after all. He's had tantrums, he thinks the word "fart" is the funniest utterance ever - second only to the actual act of farting, we've had the occasional health concern, he didn't pronounce r's until last year, he had a protracted and totally alarming fascination with the Little Mermaid when he was only two, he goes through weird phases like kids do (you know, the finger chewing phase, the hair twisting phase, the pants adjusting phase, the making weird noises phase), but it would be disingenuous to say that he's ever given us serious trouble.
Well...I've got some more good news for the kindergarten teacher and TWGH! Hold on to your hats, folks. Today at his six year check-up, when the doctor asked him how much TV he watches he TOTALLY busted me by looking at me first to see if I was making a face or if I was cool with him telling the truth. I was making a face. He told the truth. He watches too much TV. So do I. I tried to divert her attention by mentioning "this really great website I check ALL the time called commonsensemedia.org, because it's a really great resource for parents who aren't Christian conservatives but maybe don't want their kids watching autopsies or teenagers doing the lambada." I don't think she bought it.
Then the little twerp readily admitted that sometimes he doesn't wear a helmet when he's scootering in the driveway and that he doesn't always brush his teeth in the morning. Then he didn't say thank you when she told him he didn't need a shot. And he was so annoyed that I was bringing him back to school after his appointment that needled me until I agreed to buy him an ice cream sandwich. So, you see, he's not perfect, and I am so proud of him. He comes by his lack of perfection honestly, though. He inherited it from me and from his father.
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