Yesterday Captain Jelly Belly brought home his mid-term report card. He scored excellents in all categories, but before we get too excited, remember that this is JK, where most of the categories have to do with behaving and following rules and using the toilet independently. You may remember the Captain? The one whose future job will somehow involve the enforcing of many many rules, such as lawyer or Chief of Police or maybe drill seargeant? The one who makes a citizens arrest whenever I step off of the front door tile area in my boots? He was born to exceed in JK.

Despite the fact that JK is not exactly rocket science, though, I totally had to fight the impulse to call my mom, my sisters, my cousins, everyone in my rolodex just to announce just how well he’d done on his little report card. He’s brilliant! A genius! I’m so freakin’ proud!

But I held back, and you know why? It’s because I remember that when I was in school, the exact same thing used to happen to me. There’s no doubt that the Captain is my son, because I am also known as Major-General Rule Follower First Class, and thus, I usually did well in school and brought home good reports. Every time, my mom would run to the phone to call my Nana, my aunts, all her friends, and the newspaper boy to share the news.

And I totally died with embarrassment.

Part of the reason for my shame was the usual lack of self-esteem faced by 14-year-old girls that still have not hit puberty. I just didn’t feel like I had any bragging rights, I didn’t want any attention; I preferred to stand very still along flowered walls and hope no one noticed me.

But mostly, I felt kind of bad and sad for my mom, that she had to use my accomplishment just to have something to brag about. That she told everyone the news like it was her news to tell, like she had done something special, when really, I had done all the work. I thought all the other people she was calling would see through her ruse immediately, and be all like, “Oh, poor TurtleHead’s mom, she has nothing of her own to talk about so she has to go and boast about her daughter.”

Now that I am a mom, I can see how far I was from the truth. I know the swell of pride that comes from seeing your kid succeed in the world. I know the feeling of joy when someone else sees how special and smart your kid is. I know that it’s just such a relief that you don’t have anything new to worry about, and you want to share that relief and joy and pride with other people who care about your kid who maybe were worried, too. I love my kid, and so does my mom, and so do all his aunts, and I know they’d all love to see his report card. It’s so cute!

It’s so funny how my view of this situation has totally changed. I remember the kid side of things, but now I feel the parent side of things. Really makes me want to call up my mom and apologize for all the times I cringed at her phone calls like a totally unappreciative idiot. (And also to mention how the Captain did on his report card.)

Thank goodness for blogging. Now I can tell everyone and he doesn’t even have to know!