I get the pressure to raise smart kids. Really, I do. In fact, driving home from a play date not long ago, I heard an ad on the radio in which a woman insisted I do my homework on daycare places because early education starts, well, early. The ad also suggested that if my 18-month-old isn’t starting her education out on the right foot, then she may never catch up to her peers. At that moment I looked in the rear-view mirror and caught my daughter trying to fit her whole foot in her mouth. Apparently, I was screwed.
My daughter, now 2 1/2 years old, is with me most days. And since she’s a total extrovert and I would go crazy in the house all day alone with her, we’re out in public a lot: visiting friends, taking trips to the zoo and going out to eat. In our day-to-day, we hold many conversations with each other, and I am more often than not finding myself explaining things to her, even when I know it’s over her head. But it’s not what you think. I’m not trying to increase her vocabulary or teach her things beyond her years so she can excel in a field at an Ivy League.
I simply want to raise my daughter to be kind in a world that may seem otherwise.
I want my daughter to be the light in a world of violence.
We talk about using gentle hands and thank the owner at the park whose dog we got to pet. We smile at the person taking our order at the fast-food chain where she loves to play. I tell her while watching PBS how wonderful it is that families come in all shapes and sizes.
