|
My Daughter's Father is a unique perspective on the challenges of parenting from a seldom-told vantage point: The single dad. Sam, a 33-year-old journalist, will write about the joy and heartache of loving and raising — and sharing — the most precious part of his life, Maddie. This candid essay about the anxiety of knowing that every decision helps mold his child into the woman she will become comes from a father who has grudgingly acknowledged that, no matter how hard we try, we parents will never have it all figured out.
September 2008 - Posts
-
The ABC Kids Expo in Las Vegas was a completely new thing for me. For one, I'd never been to Las Vegas. And while I've been to major conventions before, they were "guy" shows - guns and cars.
The woman-to-man ratio was completely reversed from my previous convention experience (a fact about which I do not complain). Of course, the wares at a juvenile industry expo are geared for safety, but the conventioneers are far more deadly than their gun show counterparts.
For gun and car shows, booths are usually manned by guys in their mid-40s to 50s, graying, hairy, with beer guts covered in black shirts. They eye everyone suspiciously and will get their crack-back butts out of their disintegrating foldout lawn chairs only if they're certain you're going to buy. Every stall has a TV and they're usually tuned to something akin to Walker, Texas Ranger.
At ABC, it was a bit different. I've been a lot of places, seen a few things. I've been to the rodeo a time or two. And I've never been surrounded by so many attractive women. And they were sharks. You could not walk an aisle without someone darn near dragging you into her booth and turning you into a Kool Aid-drinking believer.
That's makes for a difficult time when you're working the show and can't spend time with everyone who tries to catch your attention. It got to a point where I would, at times, either show a tunnel vision intensity, or pretend to peruse, well, something in order to assure my assailants I could not be disturbed.
ABC conventioneers really were fantastic. The booths were, nearly by rule, pretty and inviting. These folks have their routine down and they do it very well. There were several times that I was snagged by someone when I really didn't want to stop and, upon taking a look at their get up, acquiesced and was surprised by how well they could sell - and often surprised by how some products sold themselves.
Case in point: Bruz Wear. These folks have put together something so obvious, it's amazing no one's ever done it before. And maybe they have; I just haven't seen it.
Bruz Wear, conceived because one of the creators' kids has a blood disorder that prevents clotting, is kids' clothing designed with padding in the areas kids most often hurt themselves when playing, especially the knees. The protective threads are also cute and, I suppose, fashionable - the padding look like patches.
When the Bruz Wear rep asked me to come check them out, I wasn't expecting much. I was so impressed with their line, though, I encouraged Babytv.com to do an editorial piece on them. You can find that video in the media player here.
I might not have been so easily persuaded were it not for the fact Maddie's legs tend to look as if her Mom and I have been beating her with ratan. It's almost as if jumping on her knees and shins makes her feel good. I cringe everytime she wears shorts and dresses and practically beg her to stop, well, whatever it is she's doing. She gets a kick out of it all.
|
-
I love picking Maddie up. Whether it’s been a few days or four weeks – as was the case when I finally got to see her this past Friday – I’m always eager for that moment when she runs to me, jumps into my arms, and squeezes the life out of me.
And I love the car ride home.
As I’ve said before, many a probing and deep conversation has been had in the Jeep during the commute from Noblesville to Muncie … or any drive, for that matter. Catching her at the tail end of a full week of second grade brings, obviously, a lot of decompressing, and far more pontificating than I would have expected … before I became my daughter’s father.
This Friday’s conversation was one I’ve been waiting on for awhile. I wrote on it recently and had a feeling this might be the year the ‘fairies’ of Maddie’s life might fall away.
As we walked to the Jeep after several minutes of hugs and kisses, Maddie showed off her most recent loose tooth. I teased her about getting it out, using anything from twine to pliers to popping her in the mouth (yes, Dad can joke about that in a way that makes her laugh her butt off), but she was having none of it.
Then that watershed moment happened: Maddie floated the idea that maybe, just maybe, there isn’t a Tooth Fairy after all. I sat quietly, a huge grin stretching across my face, and listened as Maddie worked it out in her head. "How can the fairy carry money when the money’s bigger?," she asked. And the tooth? "The tooth is as big as the fairy," she said. “It’s true.”
I love listening to her mind work. Apparently she and a friend (or several friends, I wasn’t quite sure), had discussed the veracity of the Tooth Fairy, and they had come to, well, not quite a consensus, but very close to the decision that it probably doesn’t exist.
What’s more, she didn’t pull me into it. Didn’t even ask. Perhaps these are things only peers can understand.
They say the darnedest things.
As we cruised up I69 on our way home, Maddie gave me a rundown of her soccer schedule the next few weeks. One is October 4, very close to Halloween, she thought. I explained that, no, Halloween isn’t until the end of the month. Didn’t mention the date.
“Wow, that’s 27 days!,” she blurted.
We sat silently for about five or six seconds, both thinking the same thing, though I didn’t realize it until what she said next.
With sincere incredulity, Maddie exclaimed, “How did I know that?!” I laughed, and she laughed, and I complimented her on being smarter than she even knew.
And I realized what remarkable new terrain we’re on. Maddie’s always been smart, but she’s crossed the Rubicon, she’s made that amazing leap from having to always work hard to learn and understand to the point where her brain works for her.
It’s fascinating to be a part of her life, to hopefully help her grow, but also so incredibly satisfying to witness her taking all the pieces that have been provided and put them together in ways that make sense to her and allow her to make sense of those things she doesn’t already understand.
It’s also raised the bar for me. It’s a challenge I relish.
I know I promised ABC Kids Expo posts – and they are coming, along with video posts on Babytv.com – but I hope you understand I was excited to tell this story. Expo stories to come.
And, as I always feel, thanks for reading.
|
-
I don't know about you, but the first thing I think when I hear Las Vegas is biodegradable burp cloths. At least, that's what's in my sleep now — whirring and beeping Cherry Masters belching ecofriendly diapers. That'll happen when your first trip ever to Las Vegas is spent mostly on the floor of the ABC Kids Expo, the "Juvenile Industry event of the year," as it's touted on their Web site. When your convention covers nearly three quarters of a million square feet in the LV Convention Center South Hall, that claim — hopefully — is not as hubristic as it may seem. The Babytv.com crew and I descended into the 110º sauna for days of talking, selling, interviewing, video shooting, glad-handing and grab-assing … and that was just to get a shuttle from the airport. Over the next couple of posts, I'll try to relate, to the best of my cloudy recollection, some of the simple solutions, amazing innovations, and downright ridiculous largesse that comprise a national convention aimed at helping you be the smartest, greenest, bestest parent you can be. Okay, they want to move product. But it's still pretty interesting stuff.
|
-
I am the father of an intelligent, funny, charming … just beautiful in every way 7-year-old girl.
Her happiness is everything to me and I will do all within my power to raise her so that she is never impeded by man-made obstacles (pun intended), so she knows no "glass ceiling" which would prevent her from fulfilling her dreams.
I'm also a complete sociopolitical geek. I spent last week in Denver and I'm probably the only person who asked to get my picture taken with Gloria Allred.
I'm happy for the Republican party that they've made it to the 20th century and chosen Sarah Palin to join in on the campaign for the White House. But I'm also realistic, and I see this for what it is — a transparently desperate and cynical attempt to reach out to those ardent Hillary Clinton supporters still struggling to accept her defeat and reluctant to throw their support behind Barack Obama.
This seems to me incredibly insulting to Democratic women, suggesting their concerns regarding the leaders of our country are based on plumbing ahead of issues. What's more, despite the stable of venerable women in his party, John McCain chose the beauty pageant contestant, a woman who is so far off the political radar that she's literally near Siberia.
Watching Rudy "Noun-verb-9/11" Giulliani Wednesday night, it's almost hilarious to listen him feign disgust with the news media, as if legitimately questioning Palin's dearth of bona fides is evidence of sexism. Where was his outrage when a man, I'd assume a Republican, held a sign at a Clinton speech which read, "Iron my shirt."? Where, Rudy, were you when McCain laughed at a man asking, "How are we going to beat the b****?"
I believe this is a terrible miscalculation on McCain's part, and he may lose more women than gain from it. Clinton's supporters want a woman in the White House, but they want their woman. They're unlikely to help an incredibly unqualified Republican whose values are anathema to their own pioneer this last leg into the "boys club."
(An aside: I must admit I have a profound new respect for Cindy McCain. Her introductory bio last night revealed a depth and humanity I had not expected. Good for you, Cindy Lou.)
I'm all for Dads staying home with the kids. If I didn't live in a state where mothers aren't completely assured of custody — and if I were willing to create an untenable level of friction between Maddie's Mom and me — I would have done all I could to have my daughter with me every day. Those who know me know I've given up a great deal for her.
But I was completely floored today when I heard CNN's Soledad O'Brien actually ask, "How can they tell her to put her family first and not go for the vice presidency?"
Umm … what?!
Maybe I'm too old fashioned, but I can't even believe someone, especially a woman, would ask such an absurd question, let alone even think it. I realize, and fully support, that all woman want their own success, that they want to pursue their own dreams and endeavors beyond family, beyond motherhood. But perhaps history has passed me by; I thought there was nothing more sacrosanct to a mother than being a mother.
So please, mothers, help me with this. Am I way off base? Is this where we are in society, where mothers are now expected to cast aside their families in pursuit of a "greater calling?"
|
-
Note: I do apologize for my absence these last two weeks … if, of course, you’ve noticed. I spent last week in Denver for the DNC, and I’ll have plenty to blog about that soon. I wrote this post a little while back; I hope it doesn’t bother anyone to take a step or two back before pushing forward.
As the worldwide games have drawn to a close, and tests and examinations of birth certificates and such draw out potential cheaters from the pantheon of champions, I'm reminded of the unknowns in competition, the things beyond a competitor's control that might eventually lead me to discourage Maddie from certain arenas of sport.
I refer to judged competition: Gymnastics, figure skating, synchronized water dancing (which on its face is ridiculous, but is very enjoyable to watch) and the like. Things that aren't decided on the field, but by a cohort of funny-colored jacket wearing "experts" schooled in the art of scoring a triple Salchow.
Of course, even in sports where the winner should be obvious — Phelps touches before Cavic, case closed — officials can weigh in on the matter. The most obvious of these offenses to the spirit of the games is the gold medal tilt in Munich '72 between the United States and Russia, where the USSR was afforded as many do-overs as it required to score the last basket and steal victory from the American hoops squad.
In fact, that is the only egregious example I can produce in a non-judged sport, though I suppose there are others.
I can stomach cheating competitors, if only because their transgressions invariably come to light and they tend to live their final days in ignominy. Marion Jones and Ben Johnson eventually lost their medals, and though the record books currently place Hank Aaron second, I've little doubt many ardent baseball fans view Barry Bonds as the true home run king.
He Kexin, too, could possibly lose her gymnastics crown.
My fear, though, is that Maddie could devote herself to one of these sports of beauty and grace, only to have her greatest athletic moment ripped from her hands, and her heart, by some fool too ignorant or biased to dole out a proper score.
Now, I'm not saying I envisage Maddie as a 2016 Olympian. I'm just sayin'.
I'm no gymnastics connoisseur, but I know failure when I see it. The vault competition between Alicia Sacramone and Cheng Fei was one of the two most ridiculous examples of judging injustice in these latest games, the other being the uneven bars debacle that should have awarded golds to both Nastia Liukin and Kexin instead of resorting to a convoluted and absurd tie-breaker system that would just as fairly be done by a coin flip.
In the vault, Sacramone, though not flawless in her execution, stuck her landing. Fei took her turn and, with her first attempt, landed on her knees! If you missed it, I'll let you take a guess at who took finished ahead.
I have great respect for Sacramone and Liukin. They were both screwed in favor of the Chinese and still comported themselves with dignity and honor, representing their country far better in defeat than many do in victory.
But I'd far rather Maddie get the hit to push across the winning run than perform her heart out, then pray that some rube gets the score right.
|
|
|
|