Two Words I Use to Teach My Child Self-Awareness

This piece was created for Cubby, our weekly newsletter for families at home. Want more? Sign up here for a weekly splash of fun and good ideas for families with kids.

Our family is obsessed with thanking one another. We exchange gratitude for the practical acts (picking up the groceries; sharing the last slice of pizza; tidying up the toys) as well as the big moments (for being brave at school; for forgiving me when I snapped at you). Sometimes I see us from afar and think we’re hovering really close to after-school sitcom territory. 

But then, my daughter looks up from her macaroni and cheese, and says casually yet sincerely, “Thank you for making this meal for me.” And we think we may be onto something. 

I grew up in a family that, though incredibly loving, took things very much for granted. The idea of duty was bred into the cultural fibers of my Vietnamese-American upbringing, and it was uncommon for gratitude to be exchanged for everyday acts of service. Now, I wish I’d thanked them more. My grandfather, who walked me to my favorite French fry joint for a weekend snack, back when you could stroll up to drive-thru windows. My grandmother who toasted buttered bread with cinnamon sugar while we watched Nick at Nite on a giant bedspread on the living room floor. My mom who left an egg and cheese sandwich on the kitchen counter every morning for me, despite leaving for work in the 5 a.m. hour. 

I thank them now, of course, but I wonder what it would have meant in the moment to acknowledge those small yet monumental acts. They were underprivileged and overworked, in a country that never ceased feeling foreign to them. Would they have felt more seen, even momentarily, for the indescribably good caretakers they were? Would we have been more connected?

When my husband and I got married, I was determined to build a grateful household for our future children. I thanked him so aggressively that he probably hesitated from doing anything nice for fear of being accosted by gratitude. When I thanked him for putting the cap back on the toothpaste, he looked for any hint of sarcasm, but I meant it. He, too, came from a kind yet inexpressive household.

There’s something to be said about the comfort that comes from unremarked-upon acts of kindness, and we certainly don’t want our daughter to get in the practice of doing things solely to solicit gratitude. There’s a place for quiet, unacknowledged service too. 

Yet we persisted. Over time, we became comfortable expressing our gratitude regularly and without fanfare. It became one of our many family habits, woven into everything we did. One of our daughter’s first words was “Thanks” (really, more like tanks, which is its own brand of adorable). I felt a rush of pride hearing her.

What do we hope to accomplish? More than common courtesy, we want our daughter to understand that the world does not revolve around her. By taking a moment to acknowledge that someone is going out of their way to ease her life, we hope she can see others with agency rather than obligation. We want her to understand that love — and its display — is a series of choices that we make, a commitment to honor others. We hope her ability to observe those around her will become a seed of emotional intelligence. And there is a whole history of gender-normative obligation around household duties, where women have been expected to maintain the home as a matter of course, rather than an acknowledged act of service.

Of course, like any child, she sometimes wants things right now, or the cup she needs isn’t the right color, and gratitude is the last thing on her mind. We slip up too. Once, my husband went almost a whole winter doing all the shoveling without a word of gratitude from me. Oops. But we try, acknowledging past acts as well as present ones.

We don’t force our daughter to say thank you if she forgets or doesn’t mean it. We only model in as much as we can, hopeful that the practice of gratitude becomes one that extends beyond our immediate family, into other, broader areas of her life. Though there isn’t any one person to thank for these gifts, we’re also grateful for health, security, freedom, education, and privilege. We don’t take them lightly. 

Now that our daughter is writing small words and drawing avidly, she’s taken to composing thank you notes for her grandparents and friends. That’s another post altogether, but the impulse is one I’m unabashedly in support of, even as I funnel obscene amounts into kids’ stationery and Sesame Street Forever stamps. Sometimes, the act of expressing gratitude can be an offering in and of itself.