But she learned pretty early on that people don’t have to talk about or understand maps or aquatic life, or whatever else she’s passionate about, to be interesting and fun to be around. Her older brother doesn’t talk at all, and she still digs him. She has a good friend who shares a lot of her interests and matches her pretty well in skills, and she gets that everyone else doesn’t have to.

As long as she’s just saying *this* is amazing, instead of *I’m amazing and you’re not* out in the world…things will go better.

It sounds both fun and exhausting to help her grow up.

Conceit usually signifies insecurity, instead of confidence, they have the need to prove they are better. Your daughter seems to be on the road of building that self confidence she’ll need to be a great adult (working hard, liking what you do, and having supportive people in your life.)

There are people out there who (to put it plainly) just suck–at all ages. We’ve all run into them at various times in our life. As long as there’s no bullying–she can learn to deal with them as they come along. Don’t stress over something that she might be able to cope with all on her own.

Boys go through a lot of the same thing–but they just pound each other over it.

And you’re right that it’s partly an age thing. What’s cute and age-appropriate in an eight-year-old gets tired in a teenager. Of course, by what you say, she’ll soon have the opportunity to be around kids who are gonna challenge her. If she likes that (and them), you won’t have to worry.

I have to remember that eight-year-olds are a little on the narcissist side anyhow, so maybe this is somewhat just a developmental thing. Or maybe it’s just my own egotism projected on my kid…who knows. You never really know anything about parenting beyond trying your best on any given day.

*a teacher, another kid, whoever

I have the dread fear that she’ll wind up in the class of some sadist high school teacher who will take it as his or her mission to bring Missy All That down a peg or two…don’t ask me how I know this happens, but there are some insecure and immature adults that shouldn’t be given the stewardship of an adolescent classroom

Ooooh. I know this one. I responded in a number of ways – failing my way through Jr. High (because the principal took one look at me and tracked me in the remedial courses, even though I’d been the head of the class bigshot at my previous school, and I refused to do any work that didn’t challenge me. Ergo, I did no work.), getting the offending teacher removed from the position (when every single honors/AP student organized to tell their counselors they wouldn’t take another class with her and they would go to the local CC to take English instead, they kind of had to), and for one of them, turning into the biggest showoff you ever did see and acing all of my classes just to spite everyone.

(Well, that last was also because it was the first time all of the dilligent frontrunners (the ones that did all the busywork I didn’t bother with) were being challenged and falling behind, and I’d never gotten straight A’s in my life so I felt like Showing Them All that I was, in fact, just being lazy and could have done this any time I wanted. I was a bit of a git.)

The thing is … supportive parents help a lot more for dealing with sadistic teachers than they do with apathetic teachers. And you guys sound like wonderful, supportive parents. If you teach her to recognize her own worth, she’ll know when that worth isn’t being valued. And, if the both of you catch it in time, you can do something about the teacher… whether that’s transferring to another class (which, yes, might not have the AP or honors prefix in front of it, but might be a better fit … and if you have supportive counselors, even that can be fixed. You can be an AP student taking independent study in a non-AP class, if you do it right.), having parent-teacher meetings with the offending teacher, calling their superiors in on the matter, or organizing student-led changes. Or some other action.

Another thing to remember, of course, is that kids – particularly well-loved kids – are resilient. If she knows that she is a good and smart person, then even though a class makes her miserable (and in the case of some type of sadistic fuckers, ruins her GPA… that’d be why we protested the last lady. She did grade manipulation and a lot worse, like telling kids she’d write them good recommendations and turning around, trashing them, and calling the college to say they should never in a million years be admitted to anything, because the girl had the audacity to miss a social lunch with her or something like that).. if she knows all that, she’ll be okay.

Next year, though, she’ll be the youngest of the next age grouping and so there will be greater intellectual challenges and the older kids will be in the lead. When her best friend the concert pianist math genius (who was a year older) moved up, he reportedly told her “oh, it’s great up here because you don’t always know what’s going to happen.” (Wouldn’t you love to have the kind of attitude? I know I would.)

For a while, dance was the place where she was just average. For the first two years, she stood in the back and shuffled along and had fun, but wasn’t a standout. Now, however, she’s still having a lot of fun and because she likes it, she practices a lot….so she’s become the kid in the middle, the kid who can pop quadruple pirouettes, the kid with the floaty grande jete. Once again, because of her enthusiasm for excelling at whatever it is that she does, she’s being trotted out by the adults as the example of natural talent meeting conscientious practice. I honestly wish they wouldn’t do that — not because she hasn’t worked hard and earned the recognition, but because it sets her apart on what was supposed to be a team endeavor.

The problem is that I don’t think she has it in her to remain just average at anything. It’s not like she avoids stuff (which was my trick to appear effortless at all times) but that once she gets some prefunctory instruction, she’s off to the races. That’s the pleasurable part for her — not the being good, but the becoming great.

We’ve had a saying since the children were little (which someone from your line of work might consider heresey):

Smart is easy. Good is hard.

And for us, it’s true. Our kids have always tested at at least 4 grades level above on the IBTS, and they are both Duke TIP scholars. For Lintilla and I, both “C” students in school, they are advanced (all of their classes have AP in front of them).

But they are just average at the school they attend. And this, IMHO, is a good thing.

Your daughter is far more advanced, so you have extra considerations, so, Lord knows I shouldn’t be giving advice.

I don’t know if you have the ability toplace her in a situation where she’s just “normal for the school”, or not, but it sure makes things easier.

Oh, and academically advanced boys dont have to worry about catty insults – just having the crap beaten out of them.