Right Down the Middle

 Anna had her six-month check-up today and there is good news – she’s normal. 

In fact, she’s not just normal, she’s average.  She weighed in at 16 pounds and 26 inches long.  These measurements put her smack dab in the 50^th percentile, where she also ranks in head size.

This is without a doubt a time when it’s okay to want your child to be normal.  Too big or too small, anywhere on the percentile scale that is not right down the middle (give or take), and problems could be aplenty. 

Outside of this scenario, though, when do parents want their kid to be normal? 

Not too often, I’m sure.

Here’s the thing, though.  I was raised to believe that I won’t always be the best in everything I do.  It’s simply not possible.  No one can excel at everything.  Think about it like this – could Einstein lead major league baseball in homeruns?  Probably not.  But could Alex Rodriguez (who currently leads the majors in homeruns) have done what Einstein did?  Again, probably not. 

This isn’t saying that Einstein wasn’t athletic or that Rodriguez isn’t smart.  I’m saying that everyone has certain talents.  No one can be good at everything.  Most people, as a matter of fact, are pretty damn average.

This, of course, raises some interesting questions.

What’s wrong with being in the 50^th percentile?  What if my child doesn’t excel at anything?  Will I be okay with that?

Nothing, oh well, and yes. 

I will not expect my child to be the best at everything.  I can’t.  It’s too much pressure for her and it will drive me to an early grave.  In fact, I won’t even expect my child to be the best at anything. 

What I will do, however, is expect my child to do her best.  If she gives her all at everything she does and the 50^th percentile is the best she can do, then I will be perfectly okay with this, of this I am sure.

It will be up to her, obviously, to actually try her best. 

It will be up to me, however, to teach her the importance of trying her best.

All of this talk of being normal and average reminds me of the scene in “The Incredibles,” during which Dash and Helen (Dash’s mom) have the following conversation about why he can’t, or shouldn’t, give his all to win a race:

Dash: You always say ‘Do your best’, but you don’t really mean it. Why can’t I do the best that I can do?
Helen: Because right now, honey, the world just wants us to fit in, and fitting in means acting like everyone else.
Dash: But dad always said our powers were nothing to be ashamed of, our powers made us special.
Helen: Everyone’s special Dash.
Dash: [muttering] Which is another way of saying no one is.    

All at once, I both disagree and agree with Dash.  He’s right insofar as he has every right to be upset about being told “do your best” without his parents meaning it.  He’s wrong, however, insofar as believing that because “everyone’s special” that “no one is” special.

How so?  Because even if my child is normal and average, living her life in the 50^th percentile, she will, I hope and pray, give her all.  And if she gives her all in everything she does, then everything she does and the person she is, is special.