Apologize when you're wrong
I yelled at 5-Year Old Daughter for no good reason. A minor infraction was committed. She didn’t do anything terribly wrong but I gave her a lecture anyway, mainly because I was in a mood to lecture someone. I immediately felt terrible, as I always do when I yell. I’m not someone who yells or raises his voice. When I see two people standing nose to nose shouting at one another, or someone walking down 6th Avenue screaming into a cell phone, I wonder how they're able to navigate through life with all that broken circuitry.
Anyway, I apologized. I told her that I was wrong to yell and asked her if she would please forgive me. She said, "Yes, Pop. Here's a forgiving kiss for you." and she kissed me on the cheek. She's 5! What do you do with a kid like that?! Jesus. It's not fair. I don't stand a chance.
Then, recently, this gem from her:
“We’re going to have a race. Coco and I will be on one team and you and S will be on the other team. Our team name is Team Evil. Your team can be either Team Love or Team Heart. Either one. It doesn’t matter. And look! I drew the skull from Monster High for our team!”
Man, that kid breaks my heart. I can’t bear the thought that hard times will befall her, as they do us all. Clearly, locking her in the basement isn't the answer but how do I protect her?
Earlier this year, Jay-Z and Beyoncé had a daughter. They named her Blue Ivy. What do you suppose Jay-Z will do to the first man who raps about Blue Ivy being a bitch or a whore? Do you suppose he's seen the light? Had an epiphany? Daughters rule.
NOT Debbie Harry. A little rusty on the lyrics. [Posted for the benefit of far-away Buckeye family lurkers.]
To prevent this from degenerating into a nauseating mommy/parent post, I beg your indulgence and offer a few interesting pics as penance. Here's a fantastic Giacometti that's in the sculpture garden at MoMA. Creepy. Stylish!
Last week we experienced the first few warm evenings of the spring season. Those of you in warm-weather climates can't imagine the unbridled joy of being able to sit outside when the winter breaks. Hanging your jacket on the chair back and feeling the warm air on your skin is an absolute high. And that's before you order a cold beer. I was on my way to a play at The Public down in the East Village and stopped off for a couple slices of pizza. I sat outside and was so mesmerized by the big parade walking up Second Avenue and turning onto St. Mark's Place that I almost missed my curtain!
Anyway, I apologized. I told her that I was wrong to yell and asked her if she would please forgive me. She said, "Yes, Pop. Here's a forgiving kiss for you." and she kissed me on the cheek. She's 5! What do you do with a kid like that?! Jesus. It's not fair. I don't stand a chance.
Then, recently, this gem from her:
“We’re going to have a race. Coco and I will be on one team and you and S will be on the other team. Our team name is Team Evil. Your team can be either Team Love or Team Heart. Either one. It doesn’t matter. And look! I drew the skull from Monster High for our team!”
Man, that kid breaks my heart. I can’t bear the thought that hard times will befall her, as they do us all. Clearly, locking her in the basement isn't the answer but how do I protect her?
Earlier this year, Jay-Z and Beyoncé had a daughter. They named her Blue Ivy. What do you suppose Jay-Z will do to the first man who raps about Blue Ivy being a bitch or a whore? Do you suppose he's seen the light? Had an epiphany? Daughters rule.
NOT Debbie Harry. A little rusty on the lyrics. [Posted for the benefit of far-away Buckeye family lurkers.]
# # #
To prevent this from degenerating into a nauseating mommy/parent post, I beg your indulgence and offer a few interesting pics as penance. Here's a fantastic Giacometti that's in the sculpture garden at MoMA. Creepy. Stylish!
Last week we experienced the first few warm evenings of the spring season. Those of you in warm-weather climates can't imagine the unbridled joy of being able to sit outside when the winter breaks. Hanging your jacket on the chair back and feeling the warm air on your skin is an absolute high. And that's before you order a cold beer. I was on my way to a play at The Public down in the East Village and stopped off for a couple slices of pizza. I sat outside and was so mesmerized by the big parade walking up Second Avenue and turning onto St. Mark's Place that I almost missed my curtain!
15 Comments:
You have a lovely daughter, and I suspect this is because you are a lovely father.
We don't get many evenings here when one can sit outside without a jacket. I wonder if people who live in hot climates relish a frost?
you are raisin' them chilluns right! Blondie is good stuff. All young ladies must be able to sing that particular song! And she did a damn fine job!
Eryl: I can assure you that all her charm and loveliness is on account of Mrs. Wife. I'm off all day working the salt mines. It's pretty much all on her.
daisy: I love that she's a measly 5 years old and can mumble her way through a Blondie song. Imagine when she's 23 and hears it on the old, old. oldies station! She'll have a pleasant flashback. Music can do that to you.
Yer a good father pal, and a good man. :¬)
Your daughter sounds delightful, but i think that all daughters (especially at 5 years old) are delightful.
My wee princess at age 6 arranged a sponsored race for all of her friends to raise money for that eejit Bob Geldof's African charity, and raised over £80 (in 1988)
Bless them, they keep us sane.
(Not Gelodof and his pseudo-caring ilk, the daughters)
BTW, what do you play?
map: I am trying, trying, trying.
TSB: She is a delightful hellion and she keeps me grounded. They both do. I "play" a guitar. I put it in quotes because what I do to a guitar should be against the law. It's not pretty and it certainly can't be considered playing. It clears the room.
"It's not pretty and it certainly can't be considered playing. It clears the room."
Cool.
Maybe I should ask you to play next time I'm scheduled to teach my Year 11s (16 year olds)
Beautiful daughter, beautiful sculpture
I still have the odd pang of guilt at the times when I've lost my temper with the children. I always regret it deeply afterwards. It's just inevitable sometimes, but what a lovely charming response on the part of your daughter. Makes the guilt worse in a way!
TSB: Do your 11s want to play You Shook Me All Night Long and Should I Stay or Should I Go over and over? Because that's about all I can do with any degree of proficiency.
nurse: Thank you, dear. That sculpture is a killer. One of my favs. My daughter is a killer, too.
looby: The dark afterglow of yelling at a child is the worst feeling in the world. I hate it. She assuaged my guilt with a kiss. What a princess!
it all works out in the end, doesn't it? your girls will always remember that you apologized when you were wrong, sugar! that's the important lesson, say you're sorry when you need to and mean it when you say it. xoxoxoxo
After a particularly hellish weekend of butting heads with my oldest boy i sat him down and explained that maybe dad was a bit to impatient and yelled a bit to quick (i'm not a yeller and screamer either) i apologized and said i'd do better and he looked at me all wide-eyed and told me that he knew he wasn't very good and didn't listen very well and that he'd do better too... we ain't perfect old man but we do the best we can and in the end the kids are alright you know? damn daddy blogger...
and for the record that video is awesome, kid lyrics are the best and i think the girl carries the tune pretty damn good...
sav: Boy, I sure hope it works out in the end. But you never really know, do you? You fill them with stuff but they still have their own DNA and there are no guarantees. It's nerve wracking.
kono: My dear old dad never apologized for anything. I don't think he ever thought he was wrong. Not once! I decided to walk a different path.
Which did you choose: love or heart? What a kid! hugs.
That's odd. I know I left a comment and it's disappeared.
Am I in the spambox?
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