The Right Kind of Embarrassment

So, we’ve all had those moments (years) where we expect our children to perform. You know, the “tricks” at the beginning. The smiling and waving and talking, those moments we’re convinced our own child is the greatest ever and quite sure others are have to be convinced as well.

Things go smoothly at first, any “errors in performance” can still be blamed on gas or teething. They still prance around in those sweet little outfits with coordinating socks and shoes. They wave at everyone from the produce aisle to check-out. They don’t fight the hats and mittens, so you look like are the perfect mother who clothes her child appropriately for MN winters. And those baby cheeks that roll into the toddler years simply have the I’m-so-adorable-I-can-get-away-with-anything look about them.

…And then somewhere, somehow, boundaries begin to swerve a little. I gave up a long time ago on the clothing choices, not from an independence perspective, simply because the fight wasn’t worth it anymore. They start talking, and their words become decipherable to strangers and things just go downhill in the performance world.

One of my great Horrifying Toddler Moments (HTM) was around age 3, in a store. We came around the corner and a woman was bending over, reaching for something on the lower shelf. We came up from behind. There was silence, complete silence, until… “Whoa, BIG butt!” was what ended up breaking this complete silence. I was horrified. I bolted off in the other direction and played dumb. Come on! I didn’t fool anyone, it was so obvious, but I was horrified (hence the name) and needed to become invisible. The woman and her friend broke out laughing (I could hear them from the other aisle as I was crouching away). I felt that I was solely responsible for what was coming out of this little person’s mouth. I viewed it as a direct reflection of me.

In more recent years, we have focused a lot of energy on manners. You know, eye contact, responding when someone speaks to you, not hiding behind my leg in social situations…getting her finger out of her nose. I would like to say that I’m hoping to make her a model citizen of society, and yes, while that is important, I really want her to perform well in front of other people. Dare I say…to make myself look good, like the perfect mother? While there are certain areas of life that have defined rights and wrongs, there is a lot of neutral ground. This is where opinions and imaginations and genuine social skills flourish.

It is exhausting to try to control something you can’t control. I don’t want her to be my puppet in the future. I want her independent and wise in her own way. So why am I trying to hinder those characteristics now? She has opinions, lots of them, and most of them are great ideas. Her daily choices are often not mine, but usually just as great (usually greater in creativity).

So, these are the thoughts I’ve been wrestling with recently. It was put to test a month ago. Kindergarten orientation. I may have “mentioned” my opinion to her regarding outfit and hairstyle, but it was ultimately her decision. She felt confident about the situation and went into the room with her head held high. We went to meet her teacher and it all fell apart form there. She hid behind my leg and didn’t respond with any words until she finally said her only sentence in baby talk. Awesome. I wanted to scream “No, this is my amazing daughter who is so creative and smart and loves socializing and speaks in full sentences,” and then make up some excuse about her behavior, but I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut. It was one of those panicky realizations that I’m not always going to be right by her side. She’s her own person and can (and should) hold her own in most situations. There was no harm done, just some embarrassment on my behalf. She left that day loving her teacher and confident about the year ahead. I knew her teacher would see her true personality soon enough.

Our family is at a new threshold in this adventure called parenthood. There are so many fine lines in parenting and I am making mistakes. But then I learn from them. I want the same for my kids.

I’m putting this to writing because I know I will need to refer to this lesson again (like, tomorrow). And as the years progress, her choices and opinions become more prominent. Social circles change. She has more independence. Decisions have consequences (good and bad). Yet, at the same time, she also has the power to change the world. If I hold her too close, I’ll be holding her back.

So…the decision of mismatched athletic socks scrunched into fancy flats and the hairstyle of 7 hair clips on the same side has much less weight in the long run. I think I’m going to hang onto this level of independence and creativity for as long as possible…she can change the world tomorrow.