A type helicopter coffession. Thursday night, DD is floating in her bath and we are talking. Conversation about how the 4s in her class are turning 5 and going off to kindergarten and next year she will be 4 and there will be new 3 year olds. Then she goes off to kindergarten and turns 5.
Asked what then and I talk about grades 1 through 12, then she goes to Harvard (like her daddy) and when she is 5 goes to a big party at Harvard (DH has a big reunion year). Next morning we are walking to school and at a street corner there is a dad and son. I say that I bet this little boy is in her school. Yes, he is, just turned 3, is in a toddler room. The father asks DD what room she is in and how old is she, tells him Purple and 3 years old, but then she goes on how she will turn 4 and then 5. Then she goes to kindergarten, then grades 1 and then after grade 12 she will go to Harvard. This father looks at me, and I saw the look on his face. She is only 3 years old and you have trained her to go to Harvard.
I thought it was a light hearted conversation but part of me thinks it is a good parents' expectations were high, just like DH's parents' expectations were high. His mother talked about Harvard, pushed his oldest brother to apply. Her father was an Irish cop. DH's father was the first to go college and won a scholarship to Carnegie. But the ethic is such that you go to a really good school and you take something that gives you a profession. A profession that supports you.
Since DH and I are older parents, many of our peers have children that are in college or coming out. And those kids are living at home, figuring out next steps as they approach 30. That wasn't an option when we were growing up. My brother was strict with his son. Wasn't going to pay tuition unless it had a job assurance likely at the end. My nephew took engineering. He does like it, but he also has a good job, now is engaged and saving to buy a house, while supporting himself.
I am not sure how to straddle between supporting a child and their interests and helping them become independent. My parents came to Canada post WW2 (separately) but with nothing except their education. Which allowed them to rebuild their lives, when many had homes, families and were native with language.
Mother's day rambling.
Thanks for the coffee shop thread, to enable the rambling.
Ren
