L'autostima

A colleague and I recently had a meeting of the minds and came to the agreement that it is simply impossible for parents to be objective about their children. We agreed that this is one characteristic true of all parents, regardless of socio-economic status, age, religion, race, or occupation.

Mr. Duncan and I recently finished our first round of parent-teacher conferences for the school year. Although Maddy has only one primary teacher, Marzia, she has several adults who instruct her, nurture her, touch her little four-year-old life in some way. We were able to speak individually with most of these women.

The pertinent information from each of the meetings was that Maddy is respectful, plays well with others, eats extremely well, has lots of friends, excels in the pool, has an incredible imagination, is content in her home life, draws exceptionally well BUT. . .
she lacks self-esteem, is a bit sensitive, and is, in a word, a lolly-gagger.

Gulp.
Actually, GULP.
L'autostima
We know. All too well, we know. The teachers reported that she simply doesn't even care to attempt certain things if she perceives that she won't be successful, and she often believes that she won't be successful. She also gives up easily.
Great.
Now what do we do?
This is a child that gets more attention, more conversations, more stories, more experiences, more chances in one day than many children get in the course of a year. We encourage. We congratulate. We create safe environments for risk-taking. We let her fall. We let her fail. We praise. Yes, we tell her "no." We discipline.
Somehow, we've failed to cultivate a strong self-esteem.
Just when you think, "Hey, we have this parenting job figured out. We are a-okay."
Bamm. . . Your child lacks self-esteem.
We used to make the excuse that it was a "language issue," because she "just doesn't understand." Well, I'm afraid that excuse is no longer valid, and she seems to understand quite well.


She is apparently also a bit too sensitive; I think "touchy" was the word one woman used. This, too, is not news to us. It drives us crazy at times; however, we can deal with a tender-hearted cry baby who can't take teasing, but who is generally kind and sensitive to others.

Lolly-gagger extraordinaire.
Pokey Miss Maddy.
Dilly dally.
These are all words we've used to describe her in one way or another. Our girl is SLOW. She would likely get a "Needs Improvement" or "Unsatisfactory" assessment on the "Uses Time Wisely" part of the old-school elementary report card. Maddy lives life on a different plane where there is never a rush, never a pressing need, never an emergency.
Maddy Time.
One caregiver suggested that we bring her to school in her pajama's or without her shoes if she can't get dressed in the morning -- that's about the time the objectivity probably waned the most.
Mr. Duncan and I shared the knowing glance of parents the world over -- the simple glance of "we are not going to object out loud to what this person is suggesting about our child; however, we know -- just with this shared glance -- that we both think that she has crossed the line."
Probably a bit of shame is just what our four-year-old who has issuse with l'autostima needs to get her moving faster. That's the spirit.

I think we'll find alternatives --
Our first priority is l'autostima.


{So, there it is -- objective? Just a little? Somewhat? See. . . .it's impossible. You love them way too much to ever be able to be objective. To the moon and back. To infinity and beyond.}