V-Day is Better in a Mini-Van

I had a co-worker today tell me that just about anything you can do is better when you're single.  Really?  Maybe this is just the way it is with your mom and me, but I enjoy being with her.  Wouldn't you like to do things with your best friend?  I sure would.  Of course I'd like to go play golf with the guys, but even after having some fun with buddies, I enjoy coming home to see your mom.  And you girls too.

She asked me, "why would you want to have kids? They take up all your TV time and you can't go out and do anything fun."  She has never come home to see her little Bear, big blue eyes looking up, blurting an innocent "dadadada."  I still remember the first time you, Joy, came running to me.  I would say I wish I had it on camera, but it has a special place in my mind that I'm not sure I'll never forget.  And while she may be right about certain times, like cleaning up the puke that filled your entire car-seat that day (don't worry, your sister uses that seat now...), there truly is nothing better than a surprise hug.  I could only smile at her and shake my head.

Then I realized it's Valentine's day.  And she's single.  While I hope she is happy, I realized that she may have been trying to tear down two institutions that make me the happiest: marriage and fatherhood.  All in the name of helping herself feel better.  I hope this isn't what was happening, but it was very convenient on a day when love and relationships are celebrated.

It made me sad.  If only she could know the feeling of being loved by three wonderful people.  Or be happy in her own situation.  I pray she can find that happiness.  And I pray that you girls will too, now and in the future, whether or not you get married.  If I could tell you two things today, I'd say first, there is absolutely no feeling like the love I have for you two.  Indescribable.  (I tried once.  I think I utterly failed).  This is a source of great happiness for me.  Second, don't let your happiness come at the expense of others'.

Daddy Fan Club

I felt like I had my own fan club today.  Both of you decided that Daddy was the one to be with.  I’m not sure why, but I’m not going to complain.  Sometimes I feel bad for your mom on days like these, but she does get plenty of days when Daddy’s name is mud.  I love these days.  They erase any negative feelings I might be having.  It’s amazing how the look of your daughter can make you feel.  Not that today was a bad day, but a ray of sunshine on even the nicest of days is a welcome surprise.

After days like these, Joy, I wonder how we can get into the battles-royale that we do.  I realize you’re only two, but there’s something about the clash of our personalities that leads to a quickly elevating struggle.  Your mom says it’s because you love me so much; that since Daddy’s for fun and Mommy’s the more common enforcer, when Daddy has to take that role it hits you much harder.  She’s probably right.  She is very good at understanding human emotions.  And predicting the end of a movie.

There are certain things you need to learn, like listening and respect for authority (I guess I do understand what your Grandma and Grandpa were trying to say back then).  What I need to realize is that I need to pick my battles.  Those lessons are important, but you are still just two.  Your mom is much better at figuring out how to get you to do what we want, while making you think it was your idea.  Genius really. 

I like to think I’m pretty good at things, generally.  But this is one area where I struggle.  As you get older, I feel more and more humbled by our interactions.  I’m learning.  And I think you are as well.  I realize you are young and quite new to life.  Though I’m only 32, I’m beginning to realize how much I thought I knew, and how much there still is out there that I don’t know.  I hope we can learn some of these things together.  I look forward to it.  Especially after days like today.  There are few feelings out there that can surpass a willing hug from a daughter.  I don’t think there is anything else that can wipe clean any slate of frustrations so cleanly.

It makes me want to pray.

I Was Running...

I am amazed at how much little kids trip and fall.  Sometimes it's hilarious (is that bad?), and other times it's sad. But what I'm really amazed at is not so much the frequency, but the reaction.  Of course, there are times when you fall and immediately start crying.  But there are so many times when there is absolutely no reaction.  You just get back up and keep running.

This is an important lesson to keep in mind because we all make mistakes at some point in our lives.  Wrong decisions, stupid words, or a clumsy step happen to us all.  What's important is how you react to it.  There are those who will simply never try again.  Why bother?  I got it wrong this time, I'll just do something else instead and spare myself the embarrassment.  Then there are those who get back up; those that realize their mistakes, learn from them, and start running again.

Sometimes dads need to remember this lesson too.  So let's get up and run together.

Man Landers

I'm not big on etiquette, but there are a few rules I do like to follow:

1. Say please and thank you.
2. Share your cookies.
3. Don't poop in the tub, especially when you've got company.

Apparently one of you needs work on number 3.

Courage Under Fire

Let me just tell you two that putting out “the vibe” will no longer be allowed once you turn 13.  I think a lot of things will change around that age.  It scares me, having you girls, especially being so close in age.  I know at some point you’ll start liking boys and wanting to do crazy things like driving cars and talking on the phone.  Maybe I’m overreacting.  Probably.

I just don’t want to lose you. I’m sure all dads go through feelings like this, especially with their daughters. I know I won’t “lose” you, but when you hit those teens and Mom and Dad are no longer cool to hang out with, well that’s going to be tough.  And again, there are boys.  So I’m scared. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

Since it’s inevitable, I guess there’s really no use worrying about it. Besides, what would I tell you, or one of my Marines, if you were faced with fear? I would tell you to be courageous.  I would tell you not to back down or give up just because something is scary or hard. I would tell you to do just the opposite: Let the face of adversity drive you harder to do better. Because there are many things in this life to be scared of, in some way or another.

Maybe I’ll take my own advice. Maybe you still have over a decade until these "problems" arise. Maybe I should focus on loving and teaching you in the best way I possibly can so when those years come, I know that you’ll make the right choices. Maybe I’ll go put on a sherbet-orange tuxedo and put out a vibe of my own… to scare away the boys. And probably everyone else too.

The Anti-Santini

I’m not the yelling type.  I never have been, and barring some unforeseen life change, probably never will be.  I have started raising my voice to you Joy.  Why?  Because you’re two.  And after asking you once and telling you again, raising my voice seems to work.  I’ve always told myself I would try to remain calm; I’d be firm and in control, never aggressive.  Not that I am mean or condescending when I do this, but I’ve been raising my voice more often lately, and resorting to it sooner.  But the ends don’t justify the means.

This may seem unusual for a Marine.  If you ever read The Great Santini (which is worth a read), I hope you never see any of him in me.  This may also sound unusual for a Marine: I want to make sure you grow up in a loving environment.  I want you to know that your father loves you and always will.  I don’t want you ever to be afraid of coming to me and sharing your thoughts, feelings, opinions.  Or your favorite book.  I know I may want to regret saying this as soon as you hit those teen years, but this feeling will never truly change.  If I raise my voice to you once a day, as it seems I’ve been doing lately, this environment will fade.  If I raise my voice to you repeatedly, I may begin to yell, and eventually find myself grasping for a branch as I plummet down that slope.

This may be overly dramatic, but falling into such traps is a great fear of mine.  Sure, I could intimidate you and force you to obey.  But I would rather lead you to the right path, even as a two year-old.  I am your father and in a position of authority, but I can build our relationship around love and mutual respect so we can grow and learn together.  I will always choose your willful obedience over fearful reluctance, even if it means a more difficult path for me.  Raising my voice has worked.  And it has been easy.  When I can’t think of anything else to do at the moment, or my patience has ended, a louder, lower timbre seems instinctive.  I need to realize the ways of coercing you to do what I ask, before I get in those frustrating situations.  What I need to do is work on “the sum of those qualities of intellect, human understanding, and moral character that enables [me] to inspire and control [my girls] successfully."  John Lejeune may have long since passed, and his words may have been intended for leaders of Marines, but they certainly apply to a father who loves his girls.

There will be more times when you frustrate me.  (And trust me, I will frustrate you too, especially when I wear my Members Only jacket around your friends.)  I may lose my cool.  God-willing I won’t.  I am, after all, the adult.  I am the one with the experience and responsibility to do my best for my family.  I will always strive to foster a loving relationship between both my girls.  Because if there is one thing I love, it’s when you sit on my lap with your doggy book for us to read together.  That’s something I’m not willing to let go.  And neither is that jacket.

Ponies and Bras

Apparently I need a remedial class on animals. I saw a horse today and told you it was a cow. You got the noise right though with an aggressive “mooooooooooooo”. Your mom decided that she’d be the one to teach you two about animals. With that, we had to set some ground rules. Turns out I’m responsible for teaching you left and right, colors, and animal sounds. Your mom gets the animals themselves, girl-things, and feelings. You can come to me any time, about anything, including those things that are officially your mom’s. But if you ask me about a bra or something, I just might tell you mooooo.