You are not special.

I think, maybe I hope, that I worked this into the raising of my children.  Seems odd.  Of course I told them they are special. Yet I pray I taught them that they were also as special as the next kid.  Sure, my kids got all the good stuff. Love and equipment for sports and dance and skiing. (ha) Oh and food and shelter. Isn't that what mattered. Yet I always let them know that just because we could afford something it didn't mean that we would get that something.

And now my children are careful.  They understand money and responsibility. They, all 3, are hard workers.  Phew.  I didn't fuck up.  I can barely remember what I said yet I hear my words coming back to me through their voices. I can't wait to have grandchildren to hear the voices of my children as they parent.  I have total faith that they will do fine.