I felt pretty bad about something last night at the moms' group party. (See Sherilyn's entry
about the party.) Some of Bobby's Calvin and Hobbes antics came up in conversation, and one of the other dads asked me incredulously "He's reading it to himself? Already? How
old is he?" I started cheerfully into my normal brag about how he reads ahead in Harry Potter and... the dad got a wistful look on his face, glanced out the window to where his son (Bobby's age) was playing, and said "Maybe I'm not challenging Alec enough."
Knife in gut time. I listed some of Bobby's shortcomings quickly (he can't tie his shoes, for example), with some awkward preschool-teacher 'every kid's interests/development is different' pablum, but wow. I'm usually totally oblivious (at the time) to coming across as a braggart even though I know I do; I try, at least, to project a 'this day fortune smiles upon me; may she smile also upon you' attitude that seems to keep me from completely driving away friends, when I burst from feeling I must share something good that's happened to me... but sometimes that's not enough. Especially when it comes to comparing kids.
It's not in my nature to keep quiet about things that excite, fascinate, awe, or enrage me. Yet I really should know better; the way my insides twist when I hear about anything
that any other kid does better than my kids should give me a clue about getting too free with stories about how well my kids are doing.
It's both good and bad to have an outlet (like, say, here); a place where I know I can boast. Good, because I simply /must/ tell someone, and I can; bad, because I forget where I am sometimes, and say in one place things that belong in another.