The Ugly Duckling

One of the great things about attending any activity with your baby is that you get to meet other parents who may seem the very picture of togetherness and pa/maternal elegance but once you get to know them are more than likely paddling away furiously beneath the water like the rest of us.

I have an unfortunate habit of admitting to some heinous failing within the first few minutes of meeting anybody with the sole purpose of cutting through any of the competitive crap that can sometimes infiltrate female relationships. If I’m going to spend time with somebody I want to be sure that I’m going to come away still feeling good about myself and the world.

A good friend once commented though that I was kidding myself if I didn’t consider myself competitive: I was simply only competitive about the things I really cared about. And of course we care more about our children than anything else in the whole world so it’s only natural that even the most levelheaded of us will occasionally get sucked into the demented world of comparing our children to their peers.

Don’t! I could rehash here all the stuff you already know about how children develop at different rates and how it rarely has any bearing on what sort of adult they turn out to be, but as is so often the case, an old tale from our childhood tells it best.

This week I give you the story of The Ugly Duckling. How does it end? Why, happily ever after of course!

If you’re as old as me, you’ll remember this and your heart will burst!

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