Jul 14, 2008
I don't recall the exact circumstances, but in this photo Grace has asked for something to eat and is waiting with that singular childhood certainty that her request will be met. Pronto. I love it and loathe it, this confidence of hers. I love it because it makes me feel useful, my (and John's) ability to give her what she needs. But I hate it when the answer is no. At her current age, that usually happens when she tests boundaries or is being unsafe. Later, though, we'll fail her for countless reasons; we won't be able to comfort her when she is emotionally wounded by some despicable boy, for instance, or we'll have to deny her something that contradicts our system of values and beliefs, or we won't be able to afford something that EVERYONE ELSE HAS, which will lead to social ostracism from which she will never recover. It's a lot to think about, really. Probably not for normal people who never lie awake at night wondering if it's better to raise a happy person or a good person. I've been gnawing on that one since we learned during the ultrasound that we were having a girl. I burst into tears because I realized I would have to be a role model. Me. A role model.