<p>I just have to send much admiration to those of you with four or five children. I don’t see how you do it. Honestly, once you get beyond two, where one parent can go one way with one kid and the other with the second, I don’t know how you get them where they’re supposed to be these days with all the demands and activities that kids are involved in. I also can’t imagine the empty nesting of going from 6 in a house to 2…</p>
<p>POIH said: “One must verify or expel his doubts, and convert them into the certainty of Yes or NO.”</p>
<p>Bertrand Russell said: “The demand for certainty is one which is natural to man, but is nevertheless an intellectual vice.”</p>
<p>Kei</p>
<p>P.S. Curly said “Soitenly”</p>
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<p>Just this weekend, our college freshman son was talking about the night in his HS freshman year when he had a voice recital, one sister had a choir concert and the other sister was singing a solo in the elem school talent show. Both parents heard him sing his first song, then I raced to the elem school to hear the D in the talent show and H raced to the middle school to hear the other D sing…of course, Son was talking about how no one was there to hear him sing his second song…four years later, and he’s bringing it up…</p>
<p>I guess kids always keep ammo to make their parents feel guilty. (Mine is to tell my mother how much I hated the pixie haircuts she made me get when I was small.)</p>
<p>Thank you missypie…</p>
<p>Evidently, we are all guilty of the sin of omission!! </p>
<p>And, so next time you post your kids’ perfect SAT scores do add that they hide their dirty socks under the bed, and when you give your opinion about journalism majors don’t forget to disclose that you just had a fight with your mother over which olive oil is superior and she made you feel like you were 5 years old again and so you ate an entire bag of M&M’s in frustration (oops–busted? ;( ) </p>
<p>Anyway, who wants to share these things all of the time? I don’t want to know everyone’s secrets and peccadillos. I don’t think that full disclosure is necessarily called for on an internet forum most of the time, but I guess it would make things more interesting or more neurotic, as the case may be.</p>
<p>Questbest, I think someone has raised this point, but many of us become quite sentimental about our kids as they prepare to leave the nest or after they have left. My college freshman has Asperger’s syndrome. He is a really terrific guy and I miss having him at home. But when he is home and he starts to monologue without ceasing about the latest videogame or whatever and my eyes glaze over, I realize that during his absense I forget the things he does that are hard to handle. But it’s not necessarily bad to remember the good and forget the bad (but I agree that it’s hard to tolerate in other parents.)</p>
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<p>Certainty in this thread is defined as the mental state of being without doubt.</p>
<p>We like to take credit for all the positive stuff–talent, good looks, charm, intelligence, work ethic, etc. People will think that we’re great parents!</p>
<p>All the bad stuff? We own that too. But we don’t want to show it to the neighbors.</p>
<p>(My “wonderful” kids are lazy and sullen, talk back, have acne and weird hair, fight with their sibs, hide dirty socks under the bed, get called to the principal’s office. . .but I’m not putting that in the Christmas Letter.)</p>
<p>As grandma and grandpa used to say, “Street Angels, House Devils.” Better that than the other way around.</p>
<p>I don’t fault other parents for bragging. Every parent knows that there is some bad stuff behind the scenes, but we try to keep things positive out in public.</p>
<p>One year we did a Christmas letter which was uproariously funny and only listed the bad things. (Some were wildly exaggerated.) The whole family got involved. The kids were convulsing with laughter on the floor.</p>
<p>Hi Everyone, Happy Holidays</p>
<p>Well, this year we put Grandma in the home…</p>
<p>it went on from there. So fun to do. Thanks for the memory.</p>
<p>I know what some of you mean about parents who do nothing but brag about their perfect children. It seems anything good you say about your child is seen as a opening for them to top it with their child’s latest accomplishment. Such people aren’t fun to talk to anyway, about children or anything else, so you just smile and nod and escape as soon as possible.</p>
<p>Other people (true friends) rejoice and commiserate with you, and truly listen when you talk. And you are glad to reciprocate.</p>
<p>And then there’s the issue of airing the dirty laundry when the kid is around to protest it ain’t so. They really hate being publicly embarassed and if you think about it, you wouldn’t like it either. So as fun as it is to complain about their shortcomings with friends, I think I TRY to see things through their eyes. (Dim tho they may be.) :D</p>
<p>IRL I haven’t typically revealed much that would cast my children in a negative light. I might present a more balanced picture if that was the norm. Instead I find myself living in the land of the perfect. Gossipers would enjoy spreading the bad news. I also try to remember my children are people independent of me – they deserve their privacy. </p>
<p>Besides, take one look at my gothy, pierced, brooding, dark daughter and it’s readily apparent she does not fit the perfectly perfect mold. I’m sure folks assume she has given her parents more than a few worries. It has taught me not to care as much what people think. I know hidden beneath all that black angst lies a beautiful heart of pure gold. </p>
<p>I would like to be more honest on CC. It’s not easy when so many of you have such perfect-sounding children. I also would feel a little guilty complaining too much about my beloved children. Their shortcomings don’t define them and I would not want to give the wrong impression. </p>
<p>I will say this. My intelligent, talented, beautiful, older daughter is socially blind. There have been many painful public moments I prayed for a trap door to release me from the awkwardness. Case in point: College visit, stuck in the elevator with the Dean of Admissions when my daughter asked if “sexiling” was a big problem on campus. The Dean handled it adroitly, tried to redirect the conversation, but the clueless daughter persisted. </p>
<p>The younger gothy daughter is impulsive and typically takes the path of least resistance. It took months for her to master the difference between NEAR and IN her clothes hamper. Her reply to practically all of our concerns is, “It’s not a big deal.” I have yet to know exactly what would constitute a “big deal” to her. </p>
<p>My littlest has a beastly temper. In unprecedented, relentless fashion, he can persist in wanting the impossible, resisting all attempts at logical explanations. </p>
<p>All of their foibles are undoubtedly neurologically, genetically driven. No one wants to be socially clueless, impulsive, or angry! They are good, kind, generous, caring children. Those are the qualities which I feel truly define them. </p>
<p>Even on CC, I think some of us are afraid if we reveal our children’s weaknesses, others will secretly, privately gloat a little bit. I worry about that, silly as it is since this is an anonymous forum! </p>
<p>I admire and enjoy most the posters who are refreshingly honest about their children. MomOfWildChild comes to mind. There are others, I’m sure. missypie, I see a lot of similarities in our Aspergerians.</p>
<p>LOL we could have a whole thread (and I think we have, somewhere) devoted to the ways our otherwise talented children behave like perfect numskulls. </p>
<p>My brilliant son cannot master the proper use of the coat hanger. Seriously…his shirts end up inside out and with the hanger through one arm and the neck. 
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<p>“It took months for her to master the difference between NEAR and IN her clothes hamper.”</p>
<p>No problem. Just re-define the floor as the “hamper” and you have a perfect child once more. Works for me.</p>
<p>Hahaha my parents enjoy doing the opposite…when their friends claim they’d love their kid to be like me because I’m “smart, independent, funny, confident”, my parents fire back they don’t becaues I’m “lazy, rebellious, and hard to control.” Meanwhile my parents are usually busy telling me about how perfect other kids are.</p>
<p>One of my “perfect” children left his computer with all of his end-of-quarter assignments at the foot of his bed Sunday morning rather than taking it back to school with him. Said HW was due beginning at 9 am Tuesday. Fed Ex doesn’t guarantee delivery until 10:30. Spent a pretty penny (which he offered to pay without asking, so he gets a brownie point there) to ship it. Did it arrive? Hell if I know. Did he call/email/IM to say “Thanks for taking the laptop to FedEx so I don’t fail my classes?” Not yet.</p>
<p>My other “perfect” child uses laundry baskets as receptacles for both clean, folded, fresh-smelling clothes, and dirty, sweaty athletic stuff. Said items are generally commingled. That is, except for the dirty socks, which live under his computer desk in our office. I hope his GF knows what she’s getting into, and that I tried, really, really, really hard to train him properly!!!</p>
<p>That’s enough true confessions for me tonight! :)</p>
<p>CountingDown–you had to mention the girlfriend, didn’t you? :D</p>
<p>I don’t care how they live when they’re not at home any more, but I would hate for the GF to think S was raised in a barn and I was the enabler. Clothes on the floor, lunch eaten in front of the computer, dishes left in the sink for days…</p>
<p>That’s not how they were raised, I swear!</p>
<p>Momma-three,</p>
<p>I’m very surprised that you commented again on my post. I was trying to make a small point and I certainly did not mean to offend you. Your most recent comment makes it clear to me that you didn’t understand what I meant to convey. Perhaps I can clarify. In post #41, I wrote:</p>
<p>“It’s this sort of false self-deprecation that is a component of the problem. Sort of like, ‘see, my brilliant kids struggle to do mundane tasks, so they’re not perfectly perfect.’"</p>
<p>You commented:
“If you think just because a kid makes it to a great school, that than they should be excused for the stupid things they do than you have no idea about raising multiple kids, especially four of them in three years.”</p>
<p>My comment had nothing whatsoever to do with smart kids being excused for doing stupid things. My point was that when parents preface comments with, "My Ivy League child…, I find it a bit disingenuous. It doesn’t make the story more credible when we know that your kids are Ivy Leaguers - it just sounds like bragging. Maybe it’s a bee in my bonnet, but “Ivy League” is overused and contains too much gravitas and baggage. After all, I’ve never heard anyone say, “My Big Ten daughter finally figured out how to back the car out of the driveway!”</p>
<p>Wow. I have never ever heard the phrase, “My Ivy-League daughter/son.”</p>
<p>And while I agree it’s not gracious to brag, I think it’s equally unsociable to exercise ‘false modesty.’ </p>
<p>Just a comment on the original post: I have found over the years that the only time that other parents are interested in “proving” that their progeny is perfect is when they are in the presence of parents of highly accomplished children – esp. if those accomplishments are quite visible, pretty publicly known, etc. It seems to be some sort of anticipatory defensive play – as if they assume the other parent will begin bragging, even when that parent has zero history of bragging about said accomplished kids. Such parents feel so insecure (a point someone else brought up), that they engage in aggressive maneuvers to blunt or silence the “competition.” Thus, they go on and on about how ‘perfect’ their children are. </p>
<p>Just my experience. It may be no one else’s. </p>
<p>And I think that is so stupid, because clearly it’s built on envy. And I’ve also never understood envy. When you look at someone else’s ‘perfect’ life or ‘perfect’ child or ‘perfect’ marriage, you soon enough discover huge trade-offs (or sorrows, or hard lessons learned at a price) – or compensating, superior aspects to that person or family that you yourself could easily envy in return.</p>
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<p>^ = dumb mistake of mine.</p>
<p>I meant, you soon remember (or should have) superior aspects of one’s own family vs. the object of envy. Things even themselves out over time in life – if you wait long enough. ;)</p>
<p>So, true, epiphany. A couple of times I found myself filled with the green-eyed monster only to discover the object of my envy/jealousy had suffered extreme trials themselves.</p>
<p>I learned a painful, useful lesson – all families struggle and experience misfortune. Over time, it does even out.</p>
<p>Given that we all have hard times, I wish our society more heartily rewarded openness and true compassion for one another. I, for one, have felt terribly alone and isolated when troubled, fearing if I were to reach out it would bring private delight among my peers, instead of heartfelt support or encouragement.</p>
<p>OP, I don’t hear too many perfect children accounts. My kid had serious struggles in grade/middle school; maybe that is why I get to hear about their kid’s struggles now? The really accomplished kids whose parents I run into are really humble. I admire their restraint.</p>
<p>I do suspect it wouldn’t be hard to find braggers in nearby neighborhoods.</p>