My kindergarten daughter recently brought home a decorated booklet titled “Guess Who?” On every page are colored and written descriptions of me as a mother. What a hoot! Let me share some highlights and the actual truths:
“She is 10 years old. She is 10 inches tall. She weighs 9 pounds.” I really, really liked this page. In fact, other than 10 inches tall, I think it’s best to just leave it at that.
“She likes to eat spaghetti. She does not like to eat sugar.” Can you believe that’s in print? I’m thinking, when did I ever model this non-sugar belief for her? I actually do like sugar—it’s chemicals I’m on the watch for—but it must be good quality sugar (it’s my story and I’m sticking to it). Like in European chocolate. Or all natural chocolate. Or sugar-free but with natural sugar chocolate.
“She likes to laugh. She doesn’t like to cry.” I started thinking, when does she see me laugh? Bless her child-like heart, I don’t laugh near enough. Becoming a mother stunts your laugh gene. But I do remember one afternoon a few weeks ago sitting on my bed talking together and she let out a whopper burp. I remember saying something motherly like, please don’t, that’s actually a rude thing. And then I proceeded to have a rude moment. We looked at each other and started laughing—hers was hilarious, a very adult, heh-heh, mom-I-totally-got-your-number kind of laugh.
“She likes to wear a dress. She does not like to wear fake shoes.” Being a fashion misfit, I’m thrilled to know that she knows fake shoes are a fashion no-no. And, generally speaking, I wear pajamas as leisure wear and to everything I can get away with.
“While I’m at school she works.” There is a picture of me folding laundry. I was ecstatic because it is true that I work very hard and wash laundry everyday. However, I rarely fold as that is the childrens’ job. The best truth is my daughter realizes that while mom is home she’s not sitting on her backside and watching a show. Well, that she knows about.
“While I’m at home she plays.” Right now, I’m feeling like a stellar mother, and thinking that THE TEACHER is reading this same thing. Yeah, baby.
“I like it when we read books.” She hates reading with me. I have to creatively compel her to read books every single day because she doesn’t like it until she’s read one, and then she will read the same book 52 times in a row.
The last page said, “Good Guess Mom! It’s you!” For awhile there, I was honestly guessing the ending. Maybe something like “Good Guess Mom! It’s the great neighbor across the street who is my awesome school helper two times a week.”
Just for fun, ask your own child some of these questions. What do you think mom does while you’re at school? What does mom like or not like? This would make a great family night or family dinner discussion. The only rule is—no getting angry or being defensive. Just listen. And you might be pleasantly surprised to know that they think you’re better, smarter, kinder, and less sugar-needy than you really are.
All my best,