We all think our kids are great, but we don’t necessarily need to announce it to the world at every given opportunity. Walking through the snow in Central Park, I stopped to watch some children sledding down a hill, when I heard one parent announce, “That was fabulous Jack. You are the best sledder ever!”
As I stood wondering when sledding turned into a competitive sport, I watched another little boy burst into tears and ask his father why he wasn’t the best sledder. That small boastful comment from what in all likelihood was a well intentioned parent turned an activity that should be so fun and carefree into another arena for competition.
It’s natural to want our children to excel, to be the best. Armed with the best intentions to boost their competitive spirit, many parents encourage kids to be “the winner” – the first to get dressed, finish his breakfast, get his shoes on, fill in the blank. I cringe when I hear my kids competing with their friends and each other over insignificant things.
When we or our fellow parents overpraise our children, are we teaching them to compete over everything? To expect praise for the most minor of accomplishments? To get upset when they are not praised?
For the rest of my walk in the snow, I tried to think of how I would answer a tearful child when another parent overpraised and I refused to participate. Perhaps I could share that not everything is a competition, that it’s nice to win, but more important to have fun. How would you handle the situation?
When did sledding become a competitive sport?
We all think our kids are great, but we don’t necessarily need to announce it to the world at every given opportunity. Walking through the snow in Central Park, I stopped to watch some children sledding down a hill, when I heard one parent announce, “That was fabulous Jack. You are the best sledder ever!”
It’s natural to want our children to excel, to be the best. Armed with the best intentions to boost their competitive spirit, many parents encourage kids to be “the winner” – the first to get dressed, finish his breakfast, get his shoes on, fill in the blank. I cringe when I hear my kids competing with their friends and each other over insignificant things.
When we or our fellow parents overpraise our children, are we teaching them to compete over everything? To expect praise for the most minor of accomplishments? To get upset when they are not praised?
For the rest of my walk in the snow, I tried to think of how I would answer a tearful child when another parent overpraised and I refused to participate. Perhaps I could share that not everything is a competition, that it’s nice to win, but more important to have fun. How would you handle the situation?