I have some beautiful little people. I'm not bragging, and I do have a point, so stick with me here. Everywhere I go, people comment on these little people. And yes, they talk about how cute they are, mention the ridiculous eyelashes, giggle at some cute mannerism... But more than that, they talk about how well-behaved and smart they are. They notice that Milo is learning to be a gentleman and holds the doors for people. They see Lucy patting Milo, or Milo helping Lucy up after she falls down, or both of them saying "please" and "thank you" to store clerks. People take note that these two don't scream or whine or fight (well, most of the time). And so when I say I have some beautiful children, more than anything, I mean they are beautiful inside. They're kind and sweet and good-natured and loving, and I am so proud that they're mine.
I used to explain all of this away. Strangers would compliment them and I would mention one of their flaws, as if to counteract the nice thing they were saying. Why in the world did I do this? These little people are amazing. Yes, we have days where I think long and hard about screaming out loud. But I'm to the point where I just know that these are some special kids and I'm not afraid to agree with anyone who says it.