“And when I’m done you have to bring me flowers.” Those were the She Babe’s directions about her first school show and her expectations of us as parents. My face was a cross between Damn girl and Daaaaaaamn. I mean, Husband and I had already planned on getting her flowers but her drill sergeant demands caught us off guard.
My mom brain immediately shot to this being a teachable moment. This is a chance to explain to Daughter that the hours of practice and rehearsal – a job well done – are reward enough. I wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t expect gifts but rather be gracious if she received them. The mom in me wanted to instill qualities of being a congenial, well-mannered citizen.
As a general rule of thumb, I don’t want my kids feeling entitled and assuming they are owed something for hard work. Husband and I remind them of this on a regular basis. You do the work well not because you’ll be rewarded but because doing our best matters. Principles matter. Pride in our work matters.
But before I could share my motherly wisdom with her, my woman brain hurled herself in the middle. She shrieked like one of those piercing work whistles from the old cartoon shows and very clearly told me to shut the f*ck up.
It seems my woman brain was at odds with my mom brain. Where my mom brain wanted her to understand gratitude, my woman brain wanted her to understand her value. My woman brain reminded me that there is something special about a girl who is unapologetic about what she wants and vocal about what she thinks she deserves. History has been changed by women like that; women who society (and maybe their well-intending moms) tried to silence.
That kind of woman is ultimately the kind of adult I want my kids to grow up and be. Strong-willed and brave with a hefty dose of confidence and a dash of no one’s gonna tell me what I can do. But as a kid — and as a parent raising that kind of kid — it isn’t always easy to parent. Even when you were that kind of kid (which I was).
I’ve lived in a world who’s idea of a woman is quieter and weaker than my own, for so long, that it seems even strong women can sometimes get their signals crossed. Why shouldn’t my daughter declare what she wants? It doesn’t mean she’ll get it but at least she’ll hear the strength of her voice.
It’s a fine line we face raising kids to want more but not command they get it. An even finer line to teach kids to have high expectations without expecting anything. And finer yet to be grateful for what they have but not settle with what they’ve got.
Make no mistake, I don’t want – nor am I raising – kids who believe they are owed something. But I also want to raise kids who know when they are due something. No, they shouldn’t expect gifts but they should know when they deserve it so that when they become an adult they can call out people who don’t give them what they are worth and demand better. So they can know their own value without needing someone else to quantify it.
So what my woman brain reminded me was that I would be doing her no favors by squashing that spirit. It reminded me that believing she deserved the world didn’t make her entitled.
The simple act of asking for something doesn’t make you bossy. It means you know your worth — and you aren’t afraid to claim it.
Bravo, little R. For reminding me of our value and knowing what you want.
P.S. why my son can absolutely paint his nails and confidence inspiring songs
