my daughter, myself

Lord knows I've probably blogged about this before. I know I think about it all the time. But this morning I sat through a criticism of my daughter's habits and all I kept thinking about was how it reflected on me. Yikes, that makes me sound utterly narcissistic, which wasn't really what was happening. I guess a better way of saying it is that being forced, or obliged, to view my daughter's flaws up close and personal only made me think that her flaws are also my flaws.

Now, this was an utterly well-intentioned circumstance. My daughter has started attending her gifted class, which is a real change in how she--and we--approach her schoolwork. It's a welcome change, but there's a rather steep learning curve involved. She's having a hard time getting organized and staying focussed. This is nothing new, but she is accustomed to coasting, being the person everyone around her asks for help with things. Now, she needs to be accountable for her own work, since all her classmates are working at the same level as she is, and they don't need her help the same way. Or they're making the same kinds of adjustments as she is.

That's all fine. Like I said, nothing new. But. The other part of the conversation was about communication and how she expresses herself. It's not something I've really addressed with her because, well, I guess I'm used to it. But her teacher, who is getting to know her for the first time, has drawn attention to it as an issue.

My lovely daughter has always been a very fluent communicator. She got language very early and she's always just gotten language. Her dad is a big talker and I guess I am too. She comes from a well-established line of external processors. But, she hasn't developed any filters yet. She will just blurt something out without any thought about how it might be construed by those around her.

An example. Even while we were talking about it, the three of us, this morning, I said something about a work habit that could be improved and she immediately made a rude sound and gesture. "There!" I said. "That's exactly what we mean. Was that helpful? Did it contribute to this discussion we're having?" Of course, the answer was no. I think she got the message.

But she was clearly emotional about being criticized like that, and as a result, I was too. I kept thinking the teacher was scrutinizing me, the interactions I was having with my daughter, and thinking "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." I didn't like it. I know J needs to work on those things, but I guess I didn't think I did. I wonder now if I do. I know I've always been able to filter and make adjustments relatively easily, but I wonder if it will be so easy for her. I hope it will. I know I need to help her with it.

Observations about J's flaws inevitably shine a light on my own. My faith in my parenting abilities is never particularly strong: for better or for worse, I'm constantly worrying that I'm screwing up my kid. I suppose it's the cross all parents bear, but in this case, knowing others feel as I do doesn't make the burden any easier.