All that comes with it

I’m not usually a competitive man. This is probably due to the fact that I’m rubbish at most games and sports and so haven’t got a chance of winning anything anyway. To be competitive would only invite constant disappointment.

I was surprised therefore when I found myself comparing Amy to other children from the moment she was born. I have fairly little contact with other kids myself, but Kerry sees an array of different mums and their children. Each time she returns from one of these visits I subtlety enquire, “So, how’s ____ doing?” The precise nature of my enquiries has changed as Amy has got older. Initially I was focused on weight, then smiling, then sitting up, then crawling, and so on. Currently I’m in a transition period between focusing on vocabulary and social skills. Every time I get a report in Amy’s favour a maniacal grin crosses my face, I arch my fingers, and mumble a sinister “Excellent”. It’s not that I want any of these other kids to be failures, far from it, I just like having my convictions about Amy’s genius confirmed.

Kerry is no doubt aware of my foible, and does a good job of tolerating it without colluding with me. At my core I do realise that Amy’s just a normal, happy kid, and that’s certainly more than enough to fulfil my ambitions for her – just happy would have done. I’m not going to become one of those parents who push their own ambitions on their children. I’ll not ask her to for anything that she doesn’t want for herself. I think I’m always going to be finding reasons to be proud of her though, I think that’s just what dads do.