Thursday, May 23, 2013

Abridged Collection of Fatherly Advice for My Daughter

My daughter, Ana, is turning eight in a few days.  And, with Colin's arrival fast approaching, I have begun to feel rather guilty about my parenting duties as it pertains to little girls.  You see, I have been blessed with three children and a fourth on the way.  Ana will be a major minority in the house.  Statistically speaking, Ana will make up 100% of the female siblings, but only 25% of the total siblings.  There will be a 75% chance of the toilet seat being left up after one of the kids uses the bathroom, "boy" movies being chosen on movie nights, and conversations about Star Wars in the car.  There will only be a one-in-four chance, however, of Hello Kitty décor in their shared bedroom, princess-themed pancake shapes on Sunday mornings, or games that include the use of anything that is pink or purple in color.  She is "out-manned" at every angle.  And when I am running the show, the numbers tip even further away from her side.  Mainly because, I too, am a boy (No, not really.  I'M A MAN, BABY!...No, not really.  I'm a little boy wrapped up in a man's body.  Like, one boy standing on another boy's shoulders and wearing a trench coat.  I'm like a "Little Rascals" situation).  I make poop jokes with them, watch "The Avengers" with them, and play in the dirt with them.  It's what I know.  I know how to be a boy.  So, I always, kind of, steer our activities towards "boy" things.

Being a father is AMAZING!  I would say something cliché, like, "It's the best job I'll ever have."  But I can't.  Because it is too fun to call it a "job."  But, sometimes, I get too wrapped up in providing fun to the whole gang, that I forget to make it equally fun for everyone.  The minority crowd gets shuffled in with the masses and I forget to single out the lone girl and designate some "Daddy-daughter time." for her.  It's not that I don't know HOW to be a dad to a little girl.  I just forget WHEN I need to.

Also, I'm not talking about just games and entertainment.  I mean, I am usually talking to my kids, whether as a group (a mob?  A litter?  What is it when you have four?  A plethora?) or individually.  But I forget, sometimes, to talk to my daughter.  And I don't think I am the only dad out there that is guilty of this.  "How was your day?" is something that we ask our kids.  "How are you doing, sweetie?  Is everything going okay?  What's new in your life?  Tell me about school; about your friends.  Any problems?  Do you have anything you want to talk about?"  These are things you ask your daughter.  Or son.  Regardless of gender, they are specific and directed.  They are targeted at actually opening up dialogue instead of receiving the typical, blanket, monotone response.  But I think it's important that we fathers take time to deliver these questions to our daughters on a regular basis.  These conversations are our "Werther's Originals" opportunities.  They are the times that we get to offer our deep, philosophical insight and pierce young minds with our soul-awakening wisdom.  These are the times that we get to offer adages, like, "Sometimes, you just have to zip that zipper," or "Well, when a fluffy, cute dog bites you and you get poisoned and almost die from venom, it's only then that you realize it was a snake the whole time."  I don't actually know what these phrases mean and I don't have any actual context for them.  But I've created them and have stored them away in my head.  That way, I have something to say, even when I don't actually have anything useful to offer in a situation.  I've got plenty more stockpiled.  "If you buy a horse, you are also buying his steaming piles of manure."  I've got a million of them.  But, regardless of how useless (or borderline psychotic) your sayings may be, they will leave a lasting impression about the conversation; the fact THAT you had the conversation.  I can still remember all the times my dad would say, "You'll be better by the time you're married," whenever something bad happened to me.  It drove me nuts whenever he said it.  "What does that even mean?!?"  But I remember and I cherish the idea that he was actually engaged in a conversation; that he actually cared enough about what was going on in my life to carry on an actual exchange.

My fear, unfortunately, is that I won't be able to effectively give my daughter all the lessons that a father should share.  Also, I have a small and stupid little brain.  I will not have all the answers for her.  But I do know a few things that I want to be able to share with her.  The "Abridged Collection of Fatherly Advice for My Daughter" is my new book that has been published and bound in a leather cover in my head.  It has many lessons that I'm sure she will need to hear at some point in her life.  Really, it's just a list of things that I know I should tell her throughout her years, but I am afraid I will miss the opportunity, forget the answer, or say it completely wrong.  Here are some excerpts from this future NY Times Bestseller that I have imagined in my daydream. These are not in chronological order and range anywhere from her current age to adulthood.

"I love you."

"If some girl is making fun of you, you should cry.  Not for yourself, but for her.  Because someone has convinced her that she is a mean, nasty, hateful little pig.  She needs your love more than you need to hate her back."

"Red is positive, black is negative.  The black can also be clamped on the body of the car."

"Boys are dumb.  You should probably stay away from them...forever."

"I love you."

"I don't care if you do think it's cool.  I'm not buying you 'nerd glasses' unless you are prescribed lenses and you are, in fact, a nerd.  Otherwise, you look like a pretentious douche nozzle."

"Read a book.  In fact, read lots of books."

"Sometimes you fail.  That's life.  Look at me.  I fail almost every single day.  But I have you.  So all those other things that I sucked at don't really matter."

"Screw this!"  (This really only makes sense if you have the visual of me flipping over the chess board in a fit of rage after have been beaten three consecutive times by an eight year old.)

"When a guy introduces himself to you for the first time, count how many seconds he maintains eye contact with you throughout the whole conversation.  That will tell you right away what kind of guy he really is."

"I love you."

"Go to college."

"If you throw them at the wall and they stick, the noodles are done."

"If you don't stop crying, I'm going to tickle you until you pee yourself.  That's right.  You will laugh so hard you won't be able to breath, your eyes will water and you won't be able to control your glandular functions.  I don't care if it is your wedding."

"The day you, my first daughter, were born, I thought to myself, 'I am going to worried every day for the rest of my life."

"Never trust a person who voluntarily places an umlaut in their name that shouldn't have one.  Those two dots are just sneaky little eyes looking over a vowel, waiting for you to slip up."

"I love you."

"Go vote."

"Having you for a daughter is like having constipation.  It's not crappy." (I'm actually in selling negotiations with Hallmark right now for this beauty)

"You go back and tell him that he has two choices:  Either he can let me kick his ass, or I'm going to let you do it!"

"I'm so proud of you!"

"If you want a cool nickname, you have to earn it.  Do you think people call me 'Mildly-Impressive-Sideburns Guy' for nothing?"

"I love you."

"When in doubt, hug it out...Unless you are doubting yourself on how to talk yourself out of a speeding ticket.  Trust me."

"Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, Start"

"The only person you have to convince is yourself.  If you think you're beautiful, everyone around you will too.  And if they can't see it, it's because they haven't convinced themselves yet on their own beauty."

"I'm not a judge or jury. But I can tell you this: he won't sell anybody out to buy his future!  And that, my friends, is called integrity! That's called courage! Now that's the stuff leaders should be made of. Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard. Now here's Charlie. He's come to the crossroads. He has chosen a path. It's the right path. It's a path made of principle; that leads to character..." (Okay, this is actually from when she will inevitably catch me reciting the speech from "Scent of a Woman" in my worst Al Pacino voice in front of the bathroom mirror...Hooah!)

"I love you."


Sadly, though, it is not as easy as having the answers written down like some kind of cheat sheet.  There is no perfect answer to raising kids.  Especially, for dads raising a girl in a house full of boys.  It's hard and frustrating and I'm almost positive that I will stammer and draw a blank when a unique opportunity presents itself for me to rise to the occasion.  But, I think I'm fairly sure that all the mistakes will be overlooked as long as I can sincerely and consistently confess, "I love you."  Because, isn't that the most important thing that any child, particularly girls, could possibly learn from their dad?  That they are loved?  That no matter what else is going on in their world, that someone one loves them unconditionally?  More than life itself?  That there is someone out there that will accept them regardless of their shortcomings and flaws?  An open heart and open arms?

Of course, knowing an Al Pacino monologue is pretty high up there, too, I'm sure.  Hooah!