How Being a Creeper Brought Me Closer to My Kids

trampoline, closer to my kids

I don’t usually like to focus on the weaknesses and shortcomings of others. I have plenty of my own to fill up these pages. And while that may be painful, if becoming vulnerable and stripping off the facade brings just a little encouragement to those struggling to Lead their Imperfect Family (hint: we all are), then I joyfully choose to endure a little discomfort. Being comfortable is overrated anyway.

So on to making someone else look bad…

Recently, I was taking a break, getting some air, and escaping for the stuffiness of the indoors. It was an mild afternoon and I was enjoying getting away from the daily grind. Then I heard a little girl cry out. I could tell she wasn’t in trouble or anything. Parents acquire that skill pretty quickly. I honestly didn’t think a whole lot about it and would have ignored it, but she didn’t stop.

“Dad, look! Dad! Look at me! Watch me, Dad!”

My ears perked up, but only slightly. Hearing “Dad” dies that to me because, well, I am a dad.

Where was that coming from? Ah, I could her now, but only her head…and it was slowly bouncing up and down. Up and down, up and down. Must be on a trampoline.

“I have to make a phone call! I don’t have time!”

Ugh. That didn’t sound like a little girl. Wait, looks like dad was on the back porch. The whole scene slowly came into focus. Dad had what looked like paperwork in one hand and maybe a phone in the other? Couldn’t really see.

–This is sounding pretty creepy isn’t it? No, I wasn’t hiding out in someone’s backyard being a creeper. Not really. I just happened to be close by. Ok, maybe I was creeping a little bit.–

My curiosity was hitting peak levels. I couldn’t look away now. What was happening here?

“Watch me, Dad. Watch.” Sweetly, yet hesitant.

“Hon, I can’t right now. I have to make a phone call.” Obviously aggravated. Ok, it was a phone in his hand.

“Watch me, Dad. Watch.”Still sweet. Slowly building up the courage to perform whatever it was she desperately wanted her dad to see.

“Hon, I can’t right now. I have to make a phone call.” Now more than just aggravated. “I will watch you later.” Voice gruff. Definitely getting close to the official anger.

“Watch me, Dad. Watch.” Sweetly determined. Almost ready to perform the flip of the century, I guess. I could only see her head, remember. Up and down, up and down.

“LATER! I have to make a phone call.” Now he was yelling. Dad shuffles backward toward the sliding glass door. “I have to make an important phone call. I will watch later!” He was really about to blow a gasket.

Suddenly, she has worked up the courage and…BAM!!! She vaults into what must have been a triple Axel barrel roll belly flop flip doodle. Or whatever it was that she knew would impress her daddy. (I can only assume this. I can only see her head, remember?)

“I HAVE TO MAKE A…” Instantly, the wind cut out of Dad’s sails. Suddenly all became right with the universe.

Angry tone: softened like a pat of butter on a steaming baked potato. Furrowed sweaty brow: flattened as his head cocks to the side.

“Wow,” he breathed.

Frustration: vanquished. Overall mood: Calm and very impressed.

“Hey, that was pretty good. Can you do that again?” A soft chuckle tumbled from his lips.

What did she just do!?!? I could only see her head!!! Is she some kind of a gymnastic prodigy? Is this the next Mary Lou Retton? The next Gabby Douglas or McKayla Maroney? (We are big Olympics fans at the Rod house)

Whatever it was, it flattened Pappy thinner than an Andes mint.  Threw that ol’ Boy from red hot anger to true blue admiration.

Hmmm. The phone call didn’t seem that important or urgent anymore. Nothing else was important. She had his full attention. Finally. That was her goal the whole time.

All she wanted was a small sliver of his time. Which, sadly, he wasn’t ready to give her…until she knocked his socks off.

“Hey, that was pretty good. Can you do that again?”

I am not trying to throw this dad under the bus. I just happened to get a glimpse into his life at a point he is probably not very proud of. Who am I to say? The phone call probably was important. Maybe even critical. I don’t know if this the norm for him or not.

It doesn’t really matter. What does matter is I immediately began to see myself in him. And that didn’t feel good. I began to ask myself several  questions.

Do I wait for the impressive moments to grab my attention away from my busy cluttered life to finally pay attention to my kids?

Do I miss out on the best times, the small quickly fleeting times, the seemingly unimportant and insignificant times?

Am I putting too much stock into “making impressive Facebook and Instagram ready memories” for others to see when what they really want is just to play Frozen Memory Match or a simple game of Chutes and Ladders with me? Am I missing out on their invitation to take a trip into their “make believe” kitchen to sample their latest culinary creation because it probably would not make the cut on Master Chef Junior?

Sadly, the answer is often yes.

While I am waiting for something impressive to take place, they just need more of my time and little more of their Dad present and paying attention to even the mundane things in their lives.

This may sound a lot like a previous post. But it is such a critical topic you and I need to be reminded of it often.  Our kids need us to be actively present in their lives. Not just when they are impressive, but always.

So I will choose not to wait. I won’t wait to be impressed by what they do or what they become. I won’t wait for awards, accolades, or accomplishments. Or even an appearance on Master Chef Junior.

I choose to lay aside what seems important to me at the moment and focus on what(who) really is:

Them.

 

 

 

 

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