She gets it.

I used to watch the show Intervention pretty religiously.

If you’ve never seen it, it was on A&E, and the show followed an addict who believed he or she was being filmed for a documentary about addiction, and who later was the recipient of an intervention.

In every episode you would see how terrible the life of the addict had become.

And then, they would flash back to when the addict was a kid.

Family members would be interviewed and talk about what he or she was like before the addiction took hold.

The moms would inevitably talk about how, as a child, their son or daughter was beautiful and happy and perfect.

And then at some point it would all go to shit.

I don’t know if watching that show was good for me, or if it was bad for me.

Because I look at my kids.

And for the most part, they are beautiful and happy and perfect.

And I obviously don’t literally mean perfect in every way.

They are healthy. Productive. Respectful. (sometimes)

But I often wonder, am I doing this whole parenting thing right?

Is this beautiful and happy and perfect going to stick?

Or will I find myself in my own Intervention episode someday?

Last week Number 4 came in the door from school, hung up her backpack, took off her jacket, walked into the kitchen, and said,

“I have some bad news.”

I wasn’t sure what to expect.

You never know with Number 4.

She went on to explain how in art class she had accidentally caught the cord of her teacher’s charging cell phone, knocked it onto the floor, and shattered the screen.

And how she didn’t say anything and went back to her classroom when art class was over.

Shit.

I know that in the big picture, this was a minor incident.

But the fact that she didn’t fess up to what had happened didn’t sit well with me.

I’ve really tried to drive home the point that if you do something wrong, you need to come clean.

How if you lie, you will eventually get caught.

How if you get caught in a lie, you get in even more trouble than if you had just told the truth in the first place.

How you do the right thing not only when people are watching, but also when they aren’t.

So I got ready to deliver the you-better-go-talk-to-the-teacher-first-thing-tomorrow-morning speech.

And then Number 4 said, “But I felt so bad I told my teacher. And I cried a little. And then I went back to tell my art teacher but it was the end of the day and she wasn’t there anymore. So I’m going to go talk to her first thing in the morning tomorrow.”

Yes.

YES!

She gets it.

She really gets it.

So I asked her what happened when she went to see the art teacher, half expecting her to tell me that she forgot, or that the teacher wasn’t there, or that she chickened out.

And she said, with a big smile, “Mommy! She gave me stickers! And hugs! And she told me she was very proud of me.”

And I did the same thing.

Well, minus the stickers.

I don’t know about all of the kids, but I think I’m at least doing a good job with one of them.

Number 4 did the right thing. Not really out of fear.

Just because she knew it was the right thing to do.

Because she listened to her gut.

And I think, at least for her, the beautiful, happy and perfect just might stick.

Being Number 2 is a big fat load of Number 2!

I WANNA BE NUMBER 1!!!

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