My wife and I had a master plan for this past Saturday morning. I was going to finish my run by 7:30, at which time she was going to depart for her spin class. I was then supposed to get our five-year-old daughter ready, and the three of us were going to meet at the Farmer’s Market in Winter Park at about 9:00. Everything was running perfectly until my daughter says to me: “I want to stay home and play with you.” No problem – this revised plan gives my wife some alone time on Park Avenue and allows me to spend some one-to-one time with our daughter.
It was one of those mornings that a parent doesn’t forget. We played dolls for about 30 minutes; I cooked egg-and-avocado sandwiches while Alexa was blaring INXS, REM, and Love and Rockets throughout the kitchen (all three bands were appreciated by my daughter); and then we watched the Cat in the Hat movie. And this is when it came. A comment that makes a father stop and catch himself. A comment that usually would fill me with guilt and stress. A simple comment that my daughter probably forgot ten minutes later but could’ve stuck with me for years. Sitting next to me on the couch she asked:
“Can you cancel work and spend more time with me?”
(Before you stop reading because you assume this is another article about a busy parent feeling guilty – it’s not. In fact, it’s almost the opposite.)
Initially, her comment stung. However, the guilt didn’t stick around that long. She didn’t say it with anger or need – I think she was trying to make me feel loved. I realized pretty quickly that she was repeating what many of you had said to her after reading my post from March, Wednesday Was A Great Day. She heard several of you ask her how she liked it when Daddy “cancelled work”. After understanding that she probably isn’t experiencing major daddy issues, I talked with her about the things we could do in the evenings when I’m home. Chick-Fil-A, tennis, golf, Target, and “playing” came to her mind (which weren’t much different than our current evenings).
I’m proud of myself. In that moment I kept from wallowing in pity and adding anxiety to my parenting role. Being a dad is the most important role I have, but I think I inflict worry and guilt on myself. I can’t cancel work, and I shouldn’t feel bad about that. My daughter wasn’t trying to make me feel bad – she just wants to see more of me. I’d rather have that scenario than the reverse. After hearing a comment like that from her, I usually make myself feel bad, but not this time …
This time I stayed focused and happy in our moment together. This time I felt pride in knowing that I’ve adjusted my work in the last few years to be a present father. This time I recalled the 158 days I travelled in 2010 compared to the 60 days on the road in 2017. This time I reminded myself that my nutrition and workouts are no longer helping me hold onto my 20s but preparing me for my 80s … because I want to see her kids grow up. This time I coached myself by stating that I’m doing a pretty good job. Not perfect, but pretty good. You know what? The rest of the morning was awesome. I wasn’t pre-occupied with her comment like I would typically be. I didn’t have to sneak off to the bathroom to sob a little. I moved through her wonderful question, answered it, accepted it, and was completely engaged in the Cat in the Hat.
I don’t know about you, but my biggest critic looks back at me every morning when I’m brushing my teeth. I love that guy because he pushes me to extremes that bring me more joy than mediocrity or security ever could bring me. However, he needs to be put in his place every now and then, and I’m not very good at doing that. When I don’t stick up for myself, he robs me of precious moments by making me feel guilty or ashamed. Well, I pushed back on Saturday morning. My daughter loved me for it; I loved me for it; and that guy in the mirror – the one I pushed - he was proud of me for it.
