Chris Rock, famed comedian and certified nonfan of a certain Baltimore native, did a bit about how people expect praise for things they’re supposed to do anyway, like take care of their kids or stay out of jail. “What you want? A cookie?” he asked.

Most people don’t become parents to get a high-five, because that’s a good way to get your feelings hurt. We’ve willingly embarked on a lifelong journey of money spending, butt-wiping and personal kiddie taxi service. That’s our job. But occasionally, we pull an ordinary miracle out of a hat and it’s OK to write in your journal or call your best friend and go, “Girl, guess what I did!”

We do not expect cookies. But we will eat them if you give them to us.

It’s not just parents that benefit from acknowledging our small wins. Our kids do, too.

“It’s so much better to be self-affirming and to teach them positive self-talk, and not negative. The way to do that is by example,” said Sara Pula, a licensed clinical professional counselor of Annapolis-based Pula Counseling and Consulting. “In cognitive behavioral theory, they learn it by what all the adults around them say, and they internalize it.”

Thanking yourself for successfully handling this thankless job is good practice. Earlier this year, writer Danya Khelfa penned “Parenting Victories: Celebrating The Small Wins,” encouraging parents to take note of tiny daily triumphs, like drama-free, punctual bedtimes or keeping a level head so a conversation with your kid doesn’t turn into an argument.

Alone, these don’t seem like a big deal. But when you realize how significant those things are for keeping the peace, you feel like Olivia Pope confidently strutting through the streets of D.C. in a white coat proclaiming “It’s handled!”

Veronica Rand of Laurel had a similar simple win in November 2022, when she was awakened by her then-6-year-old son “full-on bawling.” He believed he’d damaged the family’s collective Nintendo Switch. “He was mad at Minecraft, for some reason, and had bit the Switch.” Six-year-olds are gonna 6-year-old, amirite?

“I managed to take a deep breath and then followed him downstairs to look at the damage, trying to keep my cool,” she said. “Turns out he had only cracked the screen protector.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Rand banned the kid from using the Switch until the replacement screen protector arrived. She got to play her own games undisturbed for the next three days, and “he has not bit any other electronics since.”

Bonus! “Instead of her being, ‘Blah blah blah,’ her calm demeanor calmed him,” Pula said when I told her that story. “She handled it beautifully.”

Keeping calm in the face of kiddie chaos deserves some positive recognition, because not doing so can ruin your day. This reminds me of the scene in “A League of Their Own,” the 1992 movie about a professional women’s baseball league. Cranky but newly invested coach Jimmy Dugan (Tom Hanks) initially yells at sweet, ditzy right fielder Evelyn (Bitty Schram) that “there’s no crying in baseball!” but then later explains her mistakes as calmly as he can, even as he looks ready to explode.

His team loses anyway. But Evelyn was happy.

My occasional failure to recognize the things I get right is rooted in the way I and other women have been socialized to be self-deprecating about our achievements and say they’re no big deal, lest anyone think we’re conceited or vain. No more. I make mistakes, but I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished, especially since I’m doing it solo.

Here are some of my self-praise-worthy parental moments with the 12-year-old boy in the last month:

• Washing and quick-drying a crucial team sports jersey that had been shoved to the bottom of the clothes hamper, so it was ready for the game (or at least only very slightly damp);
• Granting amnesty to bring down to the kitchen the many, many spoons and forks in his bedroom, thanking him without further fuss and not yelling “So this is why we never have any spoons!”;
• Remembering to pay for school photos online as soon as I got the form and not having to frantically search for it on Picture Day.

These are not heroic feats but things, as Rock said, you are supposed to do — things that will, when done consistently, make your home more efficient, happier and less yelly. Parenting is not done in a vacuum, but rather in a blender of various moods, circumstances and history, which means there’s so much going on it’s easy to lose it.

Not losing it, not nagging, not “I told you so”-ing are all seemingly simple skills that can take intention. A deep breath. A walk around the corner. There’s a sunny website called Parenting High5 that literally encourages parents to recognize each other’s everyday efforts. “There are times we struggle, of course, but at the end of the day, We Are Rocking This Parenting Thing,” the site reads.

So how do we stop criticizing and start praising ourselves? “We have to be aware of it first,” Pula said. “Hopefully you have people in your community and around you who say, ‘Congratulations! You did a good job!’”

For me, that looks like calling all of the parents I know, like my own mother, sister and friends, to say, “Can I tell you something cool I just did?”

I did that just last week when, within 24 hours, I discovered a piece of furniture that had been suddenly ruined, had it hauled away and walked to a local spot to buy a replacement, which was delivered within hours. I even hauled it upstairs myself with the help of my tween, who I thanked profusely.

It was a brief crisis, but I was emotionally, functionally and financially able to just Olivia Pope it without panicking. I rewarded myself with a fried fish sandwich with extra hots.

“You get a double gold star,” Pula said. “We should have little gold stars to give out to parents, because they deserve it, day in and day out.”

That seems unlikely. But there are still cookies.