I overdo it. I admit this. I try and take something that could be pretty simple, and turn it up a notch.
It happens daily, and it's a terribly terrible good thing in my life.
Case in point.
See that sticker chart above? That would be 50 stickers. Months of hard work, reading and passing off stories with a good attitude.
As I initially showed her the sticker chart I explained the rules. She had to have a good attitude. She had to try her hardest. And she had to read the story well enough that I could deem it passable. I know, call me a sweet hardball.
The end of the sticker journey would lead her to a grand secret prize. As she neared the finish line she would squeal with each sticker, asking and begging me to tell her what the big prize was.
I would smile secretly and think, "She is going to be thrilled when I explain to her that we are getting a BRAND NEW BIKE! Complete with a new helmet, and a little bell to go on the handles." There would be streamers flowing out from the handlebars, a big smile on her face, and confidence growing as she mastered the skill of riding. It was going to be glorious. I had saved my pennies, gift cards, and all that jazz for this big, glorious day.
And then...we got our fiftieth sticker.
We packed up, got in the car, and I grabbed my special envelope holding all the money. Holding hands we skipped into Toys R' Us. She was grinning from ear to ear, asking questions and trying to figure out the prize. When we paused in front of the bikes I let the grin overtake my face, I pulled out the camera and announced to her:
"Lily! You have earned yourself a new bike!"
Then I waited. The reaction. Um, reaction? Where are you?
She just stared up at me blankly, then asked if she could get a toy instead.
"I already have a bike Mommy. I don't need a new one."
"Yeah, but your bike is used and falling apart. The one training wheel breaks off, and the tires are both deflating faster than we can keep them filled." I begged in shock. "Where was my big moment?"
In a small voice I said, "How about a new helmet? Or some new training wheels?"
Lily replied, "Sure, if I can get a toy too."
A toy. A toy?
I admit, I had to take a moment and recompose myself. Then I realized that this was not MY big moment, it was hers. That was her sticker chart, not mine. And so I took a deep breath, let the shock leave my mind, and I ran over to swing her around and ask, "What toy would you like?"
We ended up going home with a pink Barbie bike.
That is, a little pink Barbie sized bike, with Barbie's little sister on it.
She left happy, and that's what counts.*
I also left realizing that sometimes I need to keep things simple. Had I known she would do all that work for a little toy, I would have chilled out more.
*The next day when we went to ride our bikes on the trail, you bet your buttons that she was pretty bummed she didn't have a properly functioning bike. I tried my hardest not to look TOO smug.
