Miciah is Awesome

I was an awful kid, let's start there.  I remember being a horrible child.  I was angry pretty much all the time for pretty much no reason.  I hated my mother.  I was manipulative, just because I could be.  ...  And all this means that, so far, my children impress me.  They're all WAY better individuals than I was until I was at LEAST 18 years old.  (My siblings will argue age with me on this point.  I sometimes say I was awful until I was 25, cause that's a safe estimate.)

I wanted to share a non-important event that illustrates my point.  Elijah got a new bookbag this year.  Miciah, however, wasn't in need of a new bookbag.  She wanted one that she saw at the store, cause it was cool, but she was okay with going home empty-handed.  (Time #1 when I was more impressed with her than with myself.)

Last month her bookbag died, though.  There was something funky with the zipper and it didn't seem fixable.  I mentioned to her that she probably needed a new bookbag.  She looked at it and said, kinda casual-like, "Yeah, that's what I was thinking."  I suggested that downstairs there was a nice new bookbag that she could have, if she wanted it, and if not, we'd buy her one from the store.  She seemed interested and then went downstairs to check it out.  She immediately came upstairs and transferred all her belongings into the new bookbag.

A few days later I asked if she liked her new bookbag and she said she did.  Good!

And THIS is why I'm impressed with Miciah for liking this bookbag:

That's Elijah's green bookbag, and Miciah's new bookbag.  Here's the close-up:

Not only is the bookbag not a cool color.  Not only does it not have some cool pattern or character on it.  It's Rob's Immunology Conference bookbag!  Granted, we use bags like this, so maybe Miciah thinks it's normal.  But I'm fairly confident that no one else in her class, maybe no one else in her grade or even her SCHOOL, is using some lame Immunology Conference bookbag.

And how would I have reacted as a kid?  With anger.  Or scorn.  Or contempt.  Definitely not like, "Oh, thanks, Mom!  You're the best!"

So, kudos to my daughter.  Love her.