I have always wondered if all parents believe their children to be beautiful despite how society sees them. Take, for example, the Olsen twins. Those were the absolutely ugliest babies I have ever seen made famous by television. They have grown into very beautiful women, to my surprise, and such a welcome difference. But, when they were babies, did their parents tell them they were beautiful?
Do parents who have children who struggle through school, failing almost every class along the way or needing extra tutoring to even accomplish a C tell their kids that they are smart?
How much of what we tell our kids is what is true versus what we want to be true. The beautiful people thing I get because beauty is more than what is represented on the outside. It is more than perfect bone structure (perfect is definitely subjective), flawless skin, full lips or round eyes. But, still, does a child whose beauty does not conform to standard acceptances of beauty hear the same things at home as one whose beauty does.
Anyway, this is all on my mind right now because my beautiful intelligent daughter (is it true to me or everyone, who cares?) put me there. Last night, she came to me to tell me that “today, is the last day to submit my college apps, mom.” It was the last day to complete a particular set of college applications that she had started about two weeks ago. She is applying to four schools within the same state university system so all she needed to do was make a few selections on each and pay the college application fee, $55 each. She was stressed because she does not like me to spend my money on her…so considerate. I told her it wasn’t a problem and to go take care of it.
After dinner, we went upstairs to my room to work on completing the applications together. My beautifully intelligent daughter signed onto the computer and tried to log into the application system but, could not remember the password that she had set when creating the account. No worries, she pressed the “forgot my password” button. As is standard practice, she would have to answer her security question in order to confirm her identity and have the new password emailed to her.
I hear her sighing in frustration.
Ms. Brilliant: This is stupid. I can’t get into my account.
Me: Why not?
Ms. Brilliant: I forgot my password.
Me: Just have it sent to you.
Ms. Brilliant: I don’t know the answer to the security question.
Me: Figuring I might be able to help. What is the question?
Ms. Momma-Says-I’m-Brilliant: What’s your password?
Oh, who am I kidding? Is my baby really ready for college.