Monday of last week I took Maggie to work with me. It was mostly a timing issue, but several people had asked where my little helper was so I decided since I was going in anyway to take her in for a while until I got what I needed fixed and then drop her off at daycare.
While there she ran across her favorite first floor non-contested divorce attorney who she hadn’t seen in a long time who also has a daughter named Maggie.
During his playing with her he mentioned that little girls especially needed to be praised for their accomplishments and not just for being adorable.
I agreed with the idea that any baby needed praising for mental accomplishments, although I found his praising her intelligence while she was about to have a breakdown because she wanted a nap a little badly timed.
It did remind me of something ITMama said before Maggie was around and that was that she wouldn’t say how pretty she was, but how smart or apt.
When we had the world’s cutest baby some of that changed, and we eventually settled into praising Maggie when she did something intelligent, but also telling her how beautiful she was. Maybe we’re raising a genius Google engineer supermodel, or maybe an egotist. Have to play this one by ear.
Now she’s addicted to chunky jewelry and jelly bracelets.
I’d never before imagined praising someone based on rubber jewelry, but the problem solving exhibited in locating the rubber rings and the ways she’s managed to incorporate them into spacial relationship games she’s made up is fascinating.
She figured out how to carry these around at all times without having to hold them or impede her arms by using them as ankle bracelets. If she’s playing with a doll and they’re in her way the doll now is wearing the jewelry. I’m pretty sure she’s telling her dolly she’s beautiful.
She sees the jelly bracelets as beautiful, I see their use and application as intelligent. It’s an interesting intersection for me mostly because I never quite got the idea that body decor could be anything other than a snag and catch risk.
Eh, random ramblings of an insomniac dad.