There are times when I catch myself pretending that my four year old daughter is older than she actually is. This is not something that happens intentionally, but rather one that happens while I am not paying attention to myself. The whole thing 'creeps' up on me. It will take place at the end of a string of 'good behaviors' where Shayla is being Daddy's perfect little girl, and then....
An emotional storm will hit the shore, and then it's like "Oh yeah, you're four! I had forgotten momentarily. Thanks for the reminder and bringing me back down to Earth!" At these times I really don't know what to do. It seems that there is nothing to do but comfort her.
Yesterday we went next door to her new friends house to return a dress that Shayla had borrowed the day before from her friend and as it turned out the mother and daughter were not home yet from the trappings of a normal 'work day'. I really didn't know that this would have this kind of impact on Shayla, but she was seriously hurt by the fact that they were not yet home, and proceeded to have a minor melt down right at the stoop of their front door. I was like, "Their going to be back soon and we'll come back over as soon as we realize that they're back home Sweetie," I pleaded, but it was to no avail. Eventually, I just had to hold her, and tell her that it would be alright. After a while she calmed down, but not before she had fully expressed herself about it--which meant not trying to 'trim down' her dissatisfaction with promises of fun later on. She wouldn't have it. She was unhappy and the world was going to know about it, especially the neighbors a couple doors down on either side of the street! I know that her expectations had been shattered and that she had high hopes to play with her friend upon returning the dress, but had I known that trying to return the dress to an empty residence was going to end in a maelstrom of tears I would've certainly waited. "Yep, you're still 4. Thanks for the refresh on that one", I thought as we hobbled broken and wounded back to our boring home where there were no other kids to play with at the moment.
I can't help but wonder what this means for us later on. What parts of what you see in your children will be a part of their fully developed self?? Will she be like this as an adult? Will the sky 'fall' dramatically and regularly in her world? I certainly hope not, and as a parent you have to think about these things. You have to concern yourself with potentialities; that's part of the job. It would be foolish not to. What can I do now to avoid any possible developmental nightmares later on? Are we doing something 'wrong', as parents? Are there things that we need to address in our parenting style now so as to give her the best chance of a sure-footed adulthood? Is part of this just the fundamental difference between raising boys and girls or is it something more and do we have control over that if it is?
Parenting, while being an incredibly intense and fully engaging affair, is also the Best of the best in terms of Experiential Richness. I love it and would trade it for nothing. I love my daughter and the role of being her dad so much that it is that love that comforts me. I may have questions and wonder about a million possible things and their million potential outcomes everyday, but at the end of it all it's the love, my love for her that saves me and fills my insides with a warm peace that let's me know that all will be fine.
An emotional storm will hit the shore, and then it's like "Oh yeah, you're four! I had forgotten momentarily. Thanks for the reminder and bringing me back down to Earth!" At these times I really don't know what to do. It seems that there is nothing to do but comfort her.
Yesterday we went next door to her new friends house to return a dress that Shayla had borrowed the day before from her friend and as it turned out the mother and daughter were not home yet from the trappings of a normal 'work day'. I really didn't know that this would have this kind of impact on Shayla, but she was seriously hurt by the fact that they were not yet home, and proceeded to have a minor melt down right at the stoop of their front door. I was like, "Their going to be back soon and we'll come back over as soon as we realize that they're back home Sweetie," I pleaded, but it was to no avail. Eventually, I just had to hold her, and tell her that it would be alright. After a while she calmed down, but not before she had fully expressed herself about it--which meant not trying to 'trim down' her dissatisfaction with promises of fun later on. She wouldn't have it. She was unhappy and the world was going to know about it, especially the neighbors a couple doors down on either side of the street! I know that her expectations had been shattered and that she had high hopes to play with her friend upon returning the dress, but had I known that trying to return the dress to an empty residence was going to end in a maelstrom of tears I would've certainly waited. "Yep, you're still 4. Thanks for the refresh on that one", I thought as we hobbled broken and wounded back to our boring home where there were no other kids to play with at the moment.
I can't help but wonder what this means for us later on. What parts of what you see in your children will be a part of their fully developed self?? Will she be like this as an adult? Will the sky 'fall' dramatically and regularly in her world? I certainly hope not, and as a parent you have to think about these things. You have to concern yourself with potentialities; that's part of the job. It would be foolish not to. What can I do now to avoid any possible developmental nightmares later on? Are we doing something 'wrong', as parents? Are there things that we need to address in our parenting style now so as to give her the best chance of a sure-footed adulthood? Is part of this just the fundamental difference between raising boys and girls or is it something more and do we have control over that if it is?
Parenting, while being an incredibly intense and fully engaging affair, is also the Best of the best in terms of Experiential Richness. I love it and would trade it for nothing. I love my daughter and the role of being her dad so much that it is that love that comforts me. I may have questions and wonder about a million possible things and their million potential outcomes everyday, but at the end of it all it's the love, my love for her that saves me and fills my insides with a warm peace that let's me know that all will be fine.