Perfectionism

Yesterday was a pretty good day. We had our usual share of battles, big and small, but no lasting damage was done. (The Littlest Jogger did earn a Sesame Street bandage for his forehead by wrestling with a visitor twice his size, but his survival seems probable.) Then, just as we were settling down for the night, the First Little Jogger got upset. She remembered that she had a project that was due this week and she wasn't sure how much she had left to do or when exactly it was due, and how was she going to get it all done? All this at 9:00 on a Saturday night.

So, we finally got her calmed down, and got her to sleep. This morning, we talked to her teacher (who goes to our church) and she's already done with the part of the project that's due this week, and she's got plenty of time to finish the rest of it.

It's just so hard to see her becoming a little perfectionist. She is so much like I was at that age, and so much like Mrs. Jogger, too. (At least she says so -- I didn't know her at that age.) We have both worked hard to figure out when to relax and not worry about things we can't control. I'm afraid that the First Little Jogger is going to have to learn that herself the hard way.