Good Kids

I hate it when people tell me that I have good kids like its just a lucky fluke that happened.  (Which is also true. ) 

BUT/AND--I work my butt off every single day to support, guide, and inspire them to be their best. I read parenting books and watch videos and examine myself and invent games and acknowledge and empathize and work harder to see things from their perspective.  I set aside my frustrations and impatience again and again.  I take the time to answer every question as fully and honestly as I can.  I offer them structure and flexibility, and a safe container for tears and tantrums.  I look for ways for them to help out around the house so that they know that they are important members of our family.  I try and be flexible whenever possible, and set boundaries when I need to so that they will know that they may set their own boundaries.  I patiently explain again and agin, sitting in the fire of my fury, why it is important to be kind, to not hit, to help out, to clean up.

It may look effortless to the point of being invisible, but this is some serious, intense, DRAINING labor that I'm doing all day long (and often in the middle of the night).  

Yes, they are awesome.  And when you tell me they are good you are erasing all of the invisible work that I'm doing to help them be that way.