There’s this thing that’s been weighing on me. I thought I had this parenting gig figured out but as it turns out, I’m still very much learning.
Here’s the thing. Little Miss. *sigh* I love that girl. She’s so amazing. Beautiful, funny, heart of gold. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. She is my first baby. My only baby girl. She’s the one who got me through my first deployment. She got me through all the hard times. She was and is my angel.
I’m having a hard time with Little Miss lately. See the problem, the problem is at this moment in time, we don’t have much in common. I’m having a hard time relating to her, to the things she loves. At her age, I was a tomboy. I grew up with an older brother and later in life 2 more brothers joined in the fun. I grew up playing with the boys. I hung out with my brother, I played with him and his friends. We would play football in the street, throw the baseball around. I was known as, “one of the guys.” I was a tomboy. My daughter is the biggest girlie girl on this planet. I love it. But yet, it makes it hard for me to relate to her and I feel like there is a barrier between us.
She wants to dance. She wants to wear pink all day every day. She puts ribbons in her hair and can’t wait for the day that I say “yes” to her wearing makeup. She’s very emotional. When she’s sad and upset, she lets you know it. I hide it. I don’t like people seeing that side of me. She’s a girlie girl. I’m not. And it’s hard.
If there’s one thing I never knew about parenting, it’s this. I never thought that being so different from your child would make it hard to relate to them. Make it hard to understand them. Looking back I can know see why it was difficult for my Mom and I. We aren’t a whole lot alike. More so now than when I was a kid but, like I said, I was a tomboy. I was always playing sports and always off with my Dad. My Mom reminds me of my daughter. They both like playing instruments, are both artistic, are both girlie. I’m not. It’s hard.
I love my daughter, the person she is, the person she is becoming. She’s perfect. We’re just very different people and it makes it hard. When she talks to me, it’s all girlie girl, all pink talk. I don’t understand but I’m trying. I’m trying to understand her likes, her dislikes. I’m trying to channel my inner girlie girl. I’m trying. But some days I fail and others I succeed. It’s a battle and one I think we’ll have until she’s older.
If there’s one thing I hope my daughter knows it’s that no matter how different her and I might be, I love her with all my heart. I don’t want her to be anyone else. I don’t want her to be a tomboy. I don’t want her to play soccer because that’s what I love. I want her to be her. Girlie girl or not. She’s showing me a different world, her world, and for once I’m not the teacher…she’s teaching me the way of the world. The way of the girlie girl.