Well, I mean, your kid is awfully nice too, but maybe mine is second only to your own?

I know, she is awfully cute and always so even-tempered. Her laugh is charming. She sleeps through the night! She eats well. And I just know that she loves me. Yeah, she’s the greatest.

Contrary to what you might think, this post will not be about all those crummy parents who shove their “great” kids in your face for you to fawn over. It is the confession of one of those crummy parents. Granted, I want other people’s approval in much more sneaky ways. I feign indifference at comments of “how cute” in line at the grocery because how could anyone dispute her cuteness?! I demur at compliments about her darling personality: “Is she always so smiley?” (Of course!)

It’s strange to take such pride in another person…especially one who has very few skills that I’ve taught them. She doesn’t do much of anything that she wouldn’t do if she were someone else’s kid. She crawls. She picks things up. She puts them down. She babbles. I didn’t directly teach her any of this stuff and I didn’t decide what she’d look like, so why am I secretly seeking approval from folks about how great she is?

I guess the answer is what is always is: because my life is all about me. I am the hero of this novel. I am the narrator. I am the controller of the inner monologue. I am omnipresent…in my own thoughts. So my daughter is a reflection of me and I want people to think she’s great mostly so that they’ll think I’m great. “You must be doing something right Katie!” Don’t I know it? By having this living thing that I “control,” I can show people how cool I really am. She’s like my own little Pac-Man walking around in the world. Yum cherries! I’m so good at this game!

If people think she’s great, then they must also think that I’m doing a good job. I know, I’m just so cool and collected about everything- amazing, right? And while I know that outside approval is a dangerous crutch, it just feels so good to get it! Ultimately, I think that my day-to-day existence does not need to be “liked” by 100 people in order to matter, but a little boost from a passer-by about how great my kid is feels like a pat on the back to me.

Isn’t my kid the greatest?! I know I am, thank you!