You want to know what was infinitely more surprising than Mary's brown eyes?
David's personality.
Let me tell you a little about our parent-teacher conference in October. David is exactly where he should be in reading. (We can see that he's been bit by the reading bug, and the world of words has opened for him. He sounds out the words in his Lego magazines, on the back of the cereal box, even in the Book of Mormon.) His writing is perfectly acceptable for a first-grader, even above average, and it's becoming less and less laborious. He has a good, solid, intuitive sense with numbers. His teacher was impressed with how fast he picked up subtraction. All of this was good to hear. And reassuring.
But do you want to know what was the very best part? When David's teacher mentioned sincerely (as opposed to a I'm-desparately-trying-to-find-something-positive-about-your-kid way): "David is a very good friend. He is helpful. For example, if someone drops something, he's quick to pick it up. Everyone likes him."
Is that not the best thing you could hear about your kid???
My heart was soaring! We have the likable kid! Not the coolest kid. Or the smartest. Or the sportiest. But the naturally friendly kid? He's ours! WE HAVE THE LIKABLE KID. Me!! And Greg!!! How did this happen??? How is it possible??? Do you know us?! Do you know how crazy it is that we have such a socially well-adjusted child? If you don't know us, let me paint you a picture: Greg and I were both the uptight, overachieving, quiet, insecure, beloved-by-the teacher kid in your class.
David is clearly a miracle.
Now, don't worry. Seeing my kids through only rose-colored glasses is not a problem for me. In fact, sometimes I tend to be hyper-aware of their challenges and weaknesses. So allow me this moment to brag. Because, honestly, there are days when I feel like there is not a lot to brag about.
This school year I am frequently paralyzed and panicked about David. The academic routines of early elementary school don't come naturally for him. So the schoolwork feels hard and uncomfortable to him. In addition, David isn't Mr. Athlete. Or Mr. Artist. And he knows it. (Oh the whining!) So I worry.
One week earlier in the fall, I was especially bogged down by my worries. David had of late been lamenting that he wasn't good at anything. And I kept finding myself at a loss for just the right words. I tried to be reassuring. But it's not like I could tell him he was the star of his soccer team. He's old enough and bright enough to see the truth of the matter. So my heart hurt. Somehow it's not very comforting when your mom tells you it's okay to be average. Why couldn't I articulate his strengths to him? Or even to myself?
Then one day I had one of the those wonderful, motherhood epiphanies. I was talking to a friend of mine, and she mentioned how much she enjoyed running into David at the school when she was volunteering there because he always said hello to her with a big smile on his face. I thought about that for a while. And then it hit me.
David is a bucket filler!
My mom should be smiling right now. A quick explanation. When we were living with my mom, Mary fell in love with this book. And my mom had to read it to her several times a day for nearly a year straight. It's a very odd book for a two-year-old to love. It's the kind of book a principal would read to her students. (Like, for example, how David's principal did last year in his kindergarten class.) The point is that we should be kind and nice and lift others up, and, by making others happy, we become happy too. It has a good message.
And it describes how David is naturally.
That night I told David he is a bucket-filler. I told him how happy he makes Mrs. J just by saying hello with a big smile. I pointed out how he was quick to be friends with the new kids in his class. I told him that almost all of the kids in his class have asked me if they can come over for a play date with David--they all like him. I reminded him of how he goes out of his way to say hello and good-bye to people he knows. I reminded him of how he always says hello to a little boy in his Primary class who has a hard time at church. I recounted how his teacher had told us that he is quick to help other children at school. I named people he had been kind to--and there were a lot of names. I reminded him of how loyal he is--he always stands up for his friends. I explained that he makes people feel good.
I told David he is very, very good at being a bucket-filler.
Because he is.
And I told him that is the most important thing in the whole world to be good at.
Because it is.
