You guys. My kids: they’re so sweet and kind and loving–but they need to work on their compliments.
Example #1: I’ve stopped straightening my hair most days and am just letting the crazy waves be themselves. I’m still not too sure about living daily life looking like a knockoff Medusa, but the consensus from my girls is that I need to keep it this way, since it’s more “me.” I thought this was a good thing, but…
…from Saoirse: “Mom. I like your hair longer. Now that you’re wearing your hair frizzy you should keep it that way.”
Example #2: First, you need to know 3 things: a) Our old house had a pool. We miss that pool very, very much; b) Quinlan loves that I’m a writer. She actually gets annoyed when she doesn’t see me overwhelmed and unwashed surrounded by notes and manuscript pages; and c) Most authors don’t make enough money to quit their day jobs, let alone afford extravagances. A child of one, though, has no concept of this. So…
…Quinlan: “Mom. You need to hurry up and finish your book!”
(Insert my brief euphoria that my daughter is proud of me.)
“Because we need a pool.”
Example #3: There is no background for this, actually. This is just real life:
From Saoirse, again: “Mom. The house looks really tidy.”
(I glow with domestic pride, until she, skeptical, looks at the room around her.)
“But why?” she says. “Are we having people over?”
I love my children. You all know this. But my children are only marginally good for my self-esteem.
Though one of them just ran in to give me a hug as I type this, so. I guess compliments are overrated.
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