She’s funny and makes us laugh. Not in the way she did for the first nine years. This is different. She is more aware of her ability to make us laugh, and she goes for the funny remark or action with a purpose. And if she scores laughs, she’s prone to repeat the joke over and over until we tell that was one too many times and it’s not funny anymore. But she likes pushing to see how many times she can make us laugh and where that line of funny and unfunny is.
She’s a good student and hardworking and bright. And though it feels like she only listens to 10% of what I say, which may not be a bad idea at all and why she’s so smart, she did listen to the part about hard work resulting in good things, like good grades. And she does her homework now without prompting and is proud of her success.
She’s a moody at times. One day it’s, “I love you, Daddy.” The next, she comes home from school and doesn’t say a word to me. I’m wondering if this is a female thing? I don’t understand it.
She still likes My Little Pony and watches the cartoon on Saturday mornings. But she doesn’t want anyone to know. Oops, I just let that pony out of the bag. Yes, she’s caught in the fragile strip of time between childhood and being a tweener, or whatever it’s called.
She’s competitive. My wife blames me for this. Okay, guilty. My genes, no doubt. We recently played a 3-day game of Monopoly. First, she and I bankrupted my wife. Yes, we’re awesome. However, my daughter was more compassionate than I about this (her mother’s genes). Then, after my wife was knocked out, I thought about letting my daughter win, but then she was so . . . I don’t know . . . boisterous, overconfident, that something kicked in with me and I couldn’t do it. And I won, of course. She was pretty upset about it. Oh, well, she has her entire life ahead of her to get over it. (Get over it, honey, it was a long time ago.)
She is confident, but hasn’t always been. It’s a fragile confidence we don’t want to break, especially since we feel we’ve played a role in getting her to this point. But it’s not a confidence built on a foundation of “everything you do is great, dear.” We’ve tried to be balanced in our praise and use it when its earned. But something clicked this year with her and she’s a new “her.” Example: she wanted one of the lead roles in her class play and got it. We were amazed she wanted it. She’s also taking singing lessons and we have to ask her not to sing over the American Idol and Voice performances so we can hear the actual performers.
She plays soccer and runs track.
She is imperfect like the two of us, her parents, but maybe not as much. And that fills me with hope that she will grow up and be happy, something I haven’t mastered.
But I’m working on it, always.
I REALLY enjoyed that post…and way to take it to them in Monopoly 🙂
Thank you for the comment. Short, sweet and highly appreciated.
Great post as always. Your Daughter sounds wonderful – you are very lucky!
Just wondering your opinion on this – don’t you think the unhappy part goes hand in hand with CF? I’m a CF Mom and I feel the exact way you do about happiness.
Glad your okay.
Your Philly Friend,
When I first read your comment earlier today, my first reaction was “yes, absolutely it is part of my unhappiness.” But then I gave it some more thought. If there is anything that makes me unhappy, it’s not being as successful as I’d like to be. And I’m not sure I can blame all of it on CF. But I can blame some of it. CF has definitely restricted the type of work I can take on as I’ve aged. So, I’ve passed up opportunities I would have taken had I not been born with it. And when the disease is raging, I’m pretty upset I have to deal with it, especially the sudden coughing up of blood, like on a plane over the Atlantic once. And I miss doing what healthy fathers my age do, especially sports.
And when I was young I thought I was going to die and it set me back from where others my age were in life and moving to be successful. I had to play catch up. Without CF, I would have been in a better place.
So, long-story short, yes, I think CF does contribute to some of my unhappiness with life and myself. But, and I repeat, but, I think overall I feel pretty lucky and happy most of the time. I just have these strong unhappy intermissions where I get upset with my situation and life. And in some ways, CF allows me not to sweat the small stuff anymore. I’m starting to not worry as much.
Does any of this help? Or does any of it match some of your feelings and situation?
I feel a healthy sense of envy when I read this post, knowing that this is a part of life that I will most likely miss out on. I do have great moments with my goddaughter who, at nearly 3 years old, has grown and morphed into this rambunctious being of whimsy and independence. I can’t imagine what she’ll be like at 10. I can only hope I have the same wisdom to observe and appreciate it as you clearly do with your daughter.
Hello, friend of my furry orange friend,
Nice of you to visit and comment. There is something to be valued with kids and without. Whatever life had in store for me would have been great. I have a child, so that is the best path ever. Had my wife and I not had a child, we’d have a large Winnebago, beer guts, and we would be travelling the USA. And I’d probably be parked outside your house right now getting ready to play a massive prank on you and your wife. How does waking up with your house painted Moganko orange sound? They don’t sell that color in the j crew catalog do they.
Your goddaughter will be very cool at age ten with 50 Moganko music videos on her resume. Career in Hollywood at the Muppet studio?
I loved this post. Though I have been AWOL from commenting on your posts of late, I have read them all on my reader. Today, I have a little time and am trying to catch up with my commenting. I know your daughter is going to love reading these posts you have written about her growth (both emotionally and physically) when she is older, its a fabulous gift you are giving her! x
Looks like you went on a reading blogs binge.
I hope my daughter enjoys them when she grows up. But to tell the truth, I’m not sure. I think it’s 50/50 at best. It’s hard to predict what she’ll be into later in life. Will it be like an old home movie she watches once and that’s that?
What’s life without risk? 🙂
I cannot imagine having so wonderful when my parent/s are gone. Like a little window into their innermost thoughts and soul. I suspect this blog, its contents and essentially ‘you’ will be treasured and passed around for many, many generations.