i shout the good stuff and whisper the rest
It's the end of another school year.
At our home that means an onslaught of performances, recitals, and other end-of-year achievements.
For my Facebook friends it means an onslaught of sappy (read: braggy) status updates.
I could put an obligatory "I'm guilty of" in front of my admission that I talk about my kids A LOT. But I won't, because I don't. Feel any guilt, that is.
My good friend, Julie, recently outed me for having a Facebook page that's heavy with the AWESOME KID status updates. She asked her blog readers whether it's "Annoying or Acceptable"?
You know, I get it. Who wants to read update after update about someone else's adorable and charming kid? And worse still, who wants to look at photos and vidoes of all that sap?
Well, I do.
I'm in that virtual audience, cheering and clapping for your kids. And I'm touched when you let me know you're sitting in mine. But the audience that matters most is made up of my own children. The only one I'm competing with is me.
This re-telling of moments reminds me to notice them. To capture them, to keep them. And when I find myself with nothing good to say, I know it's time to take a closer look.
Yes, there have been moments spent: beside hospital beds, overcoming academic challenges, working on behaviour, crying over bruised hearts. There is whining, balking, and stomping. And I do talk about that stuff; it's there.
But when they sing, dance, play a tune, write a good story, tell a funny joke, draw something beautiful, build a spectacular LEGO model, act like a good friend, make a stranger smile, say something cute, show gratitude, eat brussel sprouts, speak in French, help a sibling, make a gift, sparkle and/or shine, you WILL know.
And more importantly, someday they may read it and they will know.
We were there, we saw, we were proud.
So go ahead.
You show me yours and I'll show you mine.