From the author: More of my articles on www.therapist.com.ua This topic often arises in conversations and heads, for completely different reasons and in different versions. We either tell our friend: “And mine is impudent and a poor student,” then we are proud of the success of this very impudent person: “How he sang, and how he draws!” Sometimes, opening her mouth, usually in a children's store or in the middle of the street, we look like a young mother who has lost patience, and with it a human face, spanks the baby, accompanied by a wild cry. And sympathizing with the baby, somewhere in the depths of our souls we console ourselves - and we are better parents than this... Am I raising a child well or badly, rightly or wrongly? Is my offspring good or bad? And to find out the answer to this question, I compare my child with others over and over again, evaluate. And society helps me a lot with this - here and there. With grades for applications in kindergarten, or by handing out poems for the matinee: English ones for the smartest ones, a little longer ones for those who are able to sit still for 10 minutes. And the restless or capricious ones get short ones, like “We are starting our concert!” That's all! And then you, mom or dad, sit and watch for an hour and a half at the diligent and obedient - but other people's - children. So that. And no one seems to talk about grades before school. But every parent feels that they exist. And she joins this queue of appraisers: “Clean up after yourself, be a good girl!”, “Say hello to your aunt!” What a smart girl!” What if she’s not smart?! If he doesn’t put away the toys, cries in the garden, and his aunt sticks out her tongue? We are ashamed of the child. Ashamed in front of others. By assessing the child, they assessed us. Me or you as a parent. Your or my success in this. And this is a completely different story. We won't let you down here! Now I’m used to it – I can be a good girl in everything! I am a winner! So what am I doing? And I begin to bring the result of my work to perfection! And here the result is my child. And I try: by telling him what he is like now, I lead him to what he should be. Good! The best! And that's it! He was a miracle and the best, he received everything he needed - warmth, food and care. I received that love that is commonly called unconditional. Received acceptance. Was happy. Good just the way it is. And now, when compared, it turns out that it’s not such a miracle after all?! That's it - it's all over! Mom looks askance at the broken window in the kindergarten, dad puts in the window, of course, or pays for it - but also the happiness in his eyes at the sight of the baby has diminished. Woe! For a child, the loss of unconditional acceptance is grief! And everyone copes with grief as best they can. Lord, how can he be there - at only 4-5 years old?! He may want all the toys in the world, lie down in the dirt because of an unbought car, or maybe pee in the bed or get sick. What about us, parents? What do we do while he's there, alone, trying to cope with this loss and this new reality? And we find ourselves in familiar territory. Haven't we spent most of our lives taught what is good and what is bad? We know how to win the competition. We know the ways. This is how tennis, English and ballroom dancing lessons appear in the child’s life. Swimming is mandatory. And good kids come back clean from their walks. And they get good grades from school. And, MaryPetrovna, ours shouldn’t sit on the last desk, he should study well! And, grandma, are you a good grandma? Then at the dacha and on weekends, improve his math and read English, okay? A mini-plot wanders from one urgent series to another: in order to be an ideal wife, housewife, mother, a woman is ready to do anything. They take antidepressants to smile after hard labor at home, and drugs -stimulants, in order to keep up with everything, women in “Desperate Housewives” end up on the surgeon’s table from overdoses of “children’s cocaine” in “Doctor House”. All means are good for victory. At any cost - but towards the ideal. And here it is: the curtains are starched, the house is clean, money is earned, a career is made, the blockhead is no longer a blockhead - “he’s outgrown it, thank God!” (Who will tell you how they fought him?!) And then there’s a pause. Listening to myself, I notice that I’m tired. I exhausted myself and others with my efforts. My husband is walking - it turns out the curtains are wrong]