Dad Logic -VS- Daughter Emotion: Round 1

Last night Big Sis came downstairs asking about a surgery to correct her “lazy eye.” This was a rather confusing question as Big Sis doesn’t have a lazy eye. After much discussion it was determined that she meant that one eyelid did not open quite as full as the other. According to her, there is a grotesque discrepancy between how far each naturally opens. I’m not convinced there is a difference. My opinion, though, doesn’t matter. For Big Sis, this was a big issue. She didn’t want to go to school because of how she perceives herself.

These are the issues that are difficult for a father to instinctively tackle. I initially thought her concern was ridiculous. She wanted to have corrective surgery, which would be expensive and unnecessary. Or, she didn’t want to go to school. There is less than a month of school. Why is this such a big deal now? I didn’t even want to dignify her concern with a discussion. I wanted to bowl right over the problem with my solution. “Don’t be ridiculous, there is nothing wrong with your eye, we’re not going to get any surgery, and you’re going to school.” I’m a guy. This seems like a logical solution to me.

Big Sis, is not a grown up, nor is she a guy. As insane as her concern might seem to me, it is a very real concern to her. Every television show, every magazine, even much of today’s music is focused on physical perfection. Big Sis has spent the entirety of her life inundated by extremely high expectations. Now, she is growing into her adult body and if it doesn’t quite shape into what the media has told her is expected then there must be something seriously wrong—freakish even.

Unfortunately, I reacted with logic and bowled over the problem. Fortunately, Mom was there and found a great way around the topic. Mom got her to focus on something that could be fixed. They turned to eyebrows. Mom plucked Big Sis’s and Big Sis was happy, she was even looking forward to school today.

Dads everywhere, put away your logic. You can’t fix her concern with logic. You can only let her vent her concern and affirm her sense of worth by letting her know her opinions account. We may not understand why a millimeter difference between one eyelid and another is so important in the scheme of the universe or why it merits dropping out of school, but we can learn to see that the fears and concerns are real. Don’t dismiss them, it only sends another negative message, “Your concerns aren’t important.”

I dropped the ball last night. But, I have a feeling I’ll get another chance. I’m sure the issue of the eyelid is not resolved and next time I’ll be ready.

On Eating Sand

The last two days I had the opportunity to stay at home with Baby Boy while Mom went on a working interview. I loved the opportunity to hangout with him. Baby Boy road around the backyard in his new car, a sporty red coupe. We also toured some new blocks in the neighbored. He enjoyed his enlarged view from his wagon. His stroller was nice, but it'd didn't offer the full 360 degree view of the Radio Flyer. We also got to dig around in the sandbox.

Yesterday was Baby Boy's second adventure into the sandbox. He didn't much care for the feel of the sand the first time. He put his hands down into the sand once and then left them hanging in the air the rest of the time. Yesterday, he really dug in. His favorite game involved destroying the sand sculptures I made. When he finally got bored of destroying, what I believe to be, really great art work, he turned to eating the sand. Having experienced a mouthful or two of sand I feel confident in saying that it is no delicacy and felt it was my place to save him from a rather unpleasant sensation. So, Baby Boy heard, "No, it's yucky" several times and the various instruments he used to bring the sand to his mouth were diverted by a well intentioned hand.

Baby Boy continued to try to eat it. I figured, "No, it's yucky" held little meaning to him. So, being the wise Dad that I am, I gave him another, "No, it's yucky" and let him put the sand to his mouth. Certainly "yucky" was going to move from an abstract concept to something more concrete. Certainly, Baby Boy's face reflected the rather distasteful treat, but did it stop him? No, he tried and tried again. He had to try the sand that was on his red shovel and then again on his yellow shovel and the yellow rake and finally on his hands before he was certain that sand wasn't about to taste any better.

Did he learn what yucky means? That is yet to be determined. If he is anything like me, he will be stubborn and try again. When the weather once again turns warm, we will see. The real importance of eating sand was the lesson Dad learned. Had Mom been out there with Baby Boy she would have saved him from a mouthful of sand and with enough persistence he would most likely begin to learn "no", but he never would have an learned "yucky." That is what Dad is for, Dad sets back and lets the sand get eaten and is there to say, "That is what 'yucky' means, my son."