As I watch the pomp and circumstance of President Obama’s Inaguration today, I’m struck by some of the news commentary that’s consistent across all the channels I’ve turned to.
(Well, all but one. You know me.)
It’s about Sasha and Malia Obama.
The words I keep hearing: Poised. Wonderful. Delightful. Classy. Sensible.
I’d imagine that it doesn’t matter if you’re the leader of the free world or, you know…us. Whatever his political accomplishments, whatever the historic implications of his presidency, whatever prizes he wins or beautiful speeches he gives, or evil terrorist leaders he captures, something tells me that the thing that makes he and Michelle most proud in life is the knowledge they’re raising good kids
When I think back to those things I thought I would lose as a parent–disposable income, sleep, travel, Friday night dinners out, sleep–I couldn’t have imagined that what I gained in return meant more than all those things combined.
I’m living every day for something greater than myself.
Then, knowing that you haven’t messed it up too badly yet, you’ve got the single best feeling in the world.
I think all parents (or at least the good ones) are bound by this single point of pride, whatever else we believe, whatever our politics.
Of course, it’s a process. Who knows if today’s awesome seven year-old will be tomorrow’s poised, wonderful, delightful 16 year old. I certainly know that my girls will never be walking up the Capitol steps in cute purple coats, watching one of their parents solemnly swear to faithfully execute the office of President of the United States. But regardless of what they will be doing years from now, I am overjoyed that today, as an admittedly imperfect parent, I take a good, hard, honest look at my girls and think, “Wow, they’re kind of great.”