First was the excitement over the black lights and discovering all the ways we glowed. Ke giggled like crazy every time she pushed the ball down the ramp, then jumped and stomped and laughed. . . . even when it knocked nothing down.
Sassy was jumping up and down too, and squealing with pure joy. . . until she noticed the scoreboard. Ugh. My little perfectionist who has always had everything come easy to her was suddenly way more interested in everyone's score. And who was ahead of her. And then the pouting, sulking and TEARS (yes, tears) started. Especially when one of the little girls was beating her. Because (insert sarcasm here) they had SUCH strategy in pushing the ball down the ramp and watching it creep down the lane, hit a bumper and knock over some random pins. I was SO frustrated. Sassy wanted to quit, she refused to acknowledge her friend when A got a strike or a spare, and seeing the little girls get one nearly pushed her over the edge. Grrr. And of course, I tried to blame myself. What had I done to make her this way? Too much praise? Too much pressure? Too much glory as the oldest "golden" child?
And then I realized yet again---Uggghhh, she's ME. How many times do I HAVE to be the best? And how many times do I compare myself to others? That woman is: really skinny, fun, pretty, fashionable, cute, tall, petite, etc. She has: perfect hair, a cute purse, great shoes, a fabulous husband, expensive jewelry, etc. That mom: makes homemade Play Doh, always does fun crafts, takes her kids to exotic museums, clips so many coupons that the store pays HER. Their house is: bigger, nicer, prettier, better decorated, newer, etc. Just the other day, I was stewing over something that someone else had (when I KNOW that's a Commandment to follow. . . ) and I heard a tiny voice whisper, "But you have Me." And I suddenly realized how much I've been blessed with. Not that others don't have Him, but I truly don't "NEED" anything. Someday when I'm gone from this earth, nothing else will matter. When I stop to realize everything I DO have, I'm embarrassed at how often I dwell on what I don't. And all this time I've been telling Sassy that she won't be "the best," there will always be something else who is, and it's OK. . . Why is it so hard to practice what you preach?
During the very last frame, A and her family went to the restroom, and go figure, Sassy got a strike.
She squealed, yelled, and jumped up and down. I was SO glad that she got to feel that. But of course, I had to remind her: "Wouldn't you have wanted A to be here to celebrate? Maybe she wanted YOU to celebrate earlier with her." On the way home, Sassy commented that she apologized to A for acting the way she did. I was shocked. And proud. Without any prompting whatsoever, Sassy realized that she wasn't acting appropriately and she took responsibility for her actions. A great way to end the night.
If she's anything like her mama, she'll probably always struggle with comparing herself to others and trying to be the "best." (An unrealistic goal that's never attainable. . .why doesn't her mama see that?) But I'll take the unsolicited apology. Even if I'm not the skinny, perfect, fashionable mom with the cute purse who takes the girls to exotic museums, I'm still doing something right. And not that we're keeping score, but that's gotta count for something. :)
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