Ode to My One and Only

Pixabay

Today is, among other things, National Only Child Day. When I found this out this morning, I immediately shared this information with my (only) daughter and wished her a Happy National Only Child Day.

And that was the extent of our celebration.

Contrary to the stereotypes of only children, my daughter is a pretty low-key kid. Her best friend, also an only child, is too. Both girls were born to parents who started families in their mid-thirties and decided, for a variety of reasons that one and done was the way to go. 

I was concerned about my daughter being an only. I knew the stereotypes -- spoiled, bratty, awkward -- and was determined to fight against them as much as possible. Growing up, my daughter always got what she needed, but not everything she wanted. Though she probably got bigger piles of gifts on Christmas and birthdays than her friends with siblings did, she also learned to save her allowance for the things she wanted that Mom and Dad wouldn't spring for.

With no siblings at home, she learned the rules of friendship, sharing and much more at daycare, school, and through sports and activities. And, while she self-identifies as an introvert, she grew up with family dinners where electronics and media weren't welcome but conversation -- about anything -- was. 

Today, as a young adult, she's someone I enjoy spending time with. She knows how to hold a conversation with peers and adults alike. She's frugal, but also generous, respectful, but also assertive. She works hard for what she wants and is proud to do so, and she has navigated hardship with grace and perseverance. Her dad and I can take a small amount of credit for pointing her in the right direction, but the lion's share goes to her. She's the one who has navigated the road, steered around the potholes and re-routed after the inevitable detours. 

And made me proud every step of the way.

Happy National Only Child Day, kid.