November 7: Daddy/Daughter Time

Tonight, my wife and I are splitting the parenting duties.  My wife took my son to his preschool classroom for a craft night.  I stayed with my daughter while she went to her dance classes.

I like when I can spend time with just one of my children.  I sometimes feel as though my daughter gets the short end of the stick when it comes to my attention, simply because my son is four years old and destroys everything he comes in contact with.  He takes a lot of my energy when I'm with him.  This evening, my daughter got to choose where she wanted to eat, and then we drove down to Lake Superior and watched the lights in the dark water.  It was really nice.

After dinner, I took her to my office at the university, and I let her pretend she was a college student.  She liked that, as well.  Now, she's back at her dance studio, and I have an hour to kill.  But the important thing about tonight was my daughter getting my full attention.  I wasn't distracted by my son saying, "Can I play your iPad?" or "Pleeeeeze can I play your iPad?" or "Daddy, I love you.  Can I play your iPad?"  (I have begun to have some suspicions that the only reason he wants me around is because I'm his iPad supplier.)  No, it was pure daddy/daughter time, and it was golden.

I remember when my daughter was four years old, and I would sit next to her bed and read her book after book.  I read her Charlotte's Web and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  And we would laugh and say prayers together.  Those are some of my best memories.

Now that she's almost twelve, I am dealing with a different kind of daughter.  A daughter who goes to school dances.  A daughter who wears training bras.  And a daughter who doesn't want to hug and kiss me in front of her friends.  That's sort of depressing.

Saint Marty wants his little girl back.

My not-so-little girl