Rebecca Eckler

Last week, I realized my daughter is quite competitive. We were on vacation with my girlfriend and her two children when this side of my daughter came out, suddenly, like a zit in the middle of your nose on prom day.

As we watched our children swim, my daughter was constantly like, “Was my splash bigger?” And, “But I’m a better swimmer, right mommy?” And, “You like me more, right?” 

I had to have a talk. I explained just because I complimented her friends, didn’t mean I didn’t think she was the most brilliant swimmer in the world or that I didn’t love her. 

I still had to come up with a code so that every time I complimented her friends, I’d wink at my daughter, which meant, “Yeah, her cannonball was good, but yours was AMAZING!” 

Maybe it’s because she’s an only child that she’s not used to hearing me say anything but, “You’re the best!” Or, “I don’t love anyone as much as I love you.” 

I never really considered myself an overly competitive person. I mean, if I lose at Scrabble, it’s only because I have a really bad headache or you’re cheating. I NEVER lose a game of ping-pong. If I do, it’s because the table is wobbly. 

I’m definitely not a competitive mother. I’m actively non-competitive. Whenever my daughter says, “Race you up the stairs!” I’ll say, “OK,” and continue reading my magazine, eating toast in the kitchen. 

If she says she’s too tired to go to dance, I’ll be like, “Yeah, OK. Let’s go home. There’s already one Karen Kain.” 

Unless her report card says she’s not keeping up with the rest of the class, I don’t really even mention getting one to her, except to huff, “WTF? You’re ‘great’ at math? Seriously? What is wrong with you? You must get that from your father.” 

My daughter’s competiveness hit an all time high when her friend scraped her back quite seriously on the side of the pool. There was blood! 

As my friend and I tried to sooth her crying daughter, my perfectly-fine child started screaming, “But I’m hurt too! I got hurt too! I’m more hurt!” 

Which lead to another talk that being hurt is not a GOOD thing and why on earth would you want to try and out-hurt someone? 

My daughter continued weeping well into the night. I finally asked, “Why are you still crying? I explained being hurt isn’t good! You don’t want to be hurt.” 

To which my daughter responded, “I’m just worried about Vita. I can’t stop thinking about her.” 

So, I realized that my daughter is not only competitive, but also very sweet. Let’s just see how she reacts when she’s old enough for me to bring out the Scrabble board. Game on!