Good job

Inspired by my bro and sister-in-law, we try not to tell Otter that he's a good boy, but to say "good job" (or "thank you") when he figures out a problem or helps out. A while back we heard him start saying "job" to himself when he managed something on his own, like getting the clothes off his baby doll or putting away a toy.

So I've been concerned that he'd start being too driven by our praise and not by his own satisfaction at doing something. Because I haven't got enough real problems to worry about, right? And we're such great parents that we should sweat such subtleties, or maybe we're such bad parents that we're making him too eager to please us... you know, the inside of my head is just a pretty jumbled place these days. Remember that I'm 7 months pregnant and in the (I hope I pray) last few months (one way or another) of dissertation work and handling a toddler hitting his terrible 2's... and be kind.

That said, setting aside my neuroses (temporarily), last night I was picking up some of the clutter in the living room and asked Otter to come over and help me with putting toys into bins (which he does quite well: toy food in toy food/toy dishes bin, Fisher Price Little People in their own bin, toy balls in their own bin--and if that sounds compulsive to you, you haven't recently had to find a particular Little Person or a red plastic knife while a toddler wails in total despair because it's been misplaced). Otter strolled over from the gate to his dad's office (oh mecca of places that he so rarely gets to visit), looked at me putting plastic bacon and finger puppets away, and said to me (quite seriously), "good job."

I couldn't stop laughing.

Then again, he may well be the only person who's ever been impressed with my domestic housekeeping skills... I should appreciate it while it lasts.