5 Things My Daughter Taught Me About Life

I can’t imagine my life without glittery bicycles, mountains of hair accessories and huge neck hugs every day. And I don’t think I want to.

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She’s a five year-old pink ball of ever swinging emotions. I never thought I would brush so much hair, braid so many pony tails, or wade through so many scrunchies. After raising two great sons to teenagers I thought I knew a lot about parenting toddlers and life, until her. She has run away with my heart, played me like a fiddle, and taught me these five things, which I thought I had covered, until we had her.

#1 — Patience

Staring into the quiet space between myself and a stranger for three minutes is nothing compared to staring at a closed door between myself and my daughter for hours.

I have run one marathon (okay, completed one marathon), two half-marathons, and a few short triathlons. But until I had my daughter, I didn’t know the difference between endurance and patience. If I have to stay up all night working, I’m fine. If there is a mountain to climb, I’ll get to the top. If I tell her to go to her room and don’t come out until she has changed her mind about something, I will find myself concerned for her nutritional health before she comes out a changed little person.

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Her stubborn stick-to-itiveness is not something I was prepared for.

But dealing with her has made me measurably more patient. When striking up a deal over a car, house, or job, I have no problem sitting with my mouth shut in the awkward silence, waiting for the other party to budge. Staring into the quiet space between myself and a stranger for three minutes is nothing compared to staring at a closed door between myself and my daughter for hours.

#2 — Understanding

I used to think that understanding was finding the logic and reasoning in another person’s point of view. I thought it was saying, “Oh, I see why you’re frustrated. You thought I said duck tape, when really I wanted duct tape. I’m sorry you have been looking for tape that sticks to ducks.” And, even though this is a form of understanding,

I can now understand that I don’t have to understand to understand.

The love and bond between this little girl and me is different. I didn’t usually cuddle until she showed up, now I am a pro.

Let me elaborate. I don’t really know why the same dinner she loved last week makes her cry this week. I looked very closely at her tongue, and it seemed not to have drastically evolved with the passage of seven days. Yet, the wonderful meal that her mother cooked tonight is making her physically gag. I don’t understand why it’s making her gag, but I do understand that it is making her gag, which means I understand, even though I don’t understand.

#3 — Compassion

I can’t look at those huge blue eyes, hear that squeaky voice, and not feel a pang of sorrow when she is hurting.

There is a small piece of me that is wrecked every time she cries, no matter the cause.

Now I know what hurting with a person is, no matter how small the person, or how small the matter. When it bothers her, it kills me, and perhaps she is right. Maybe Jimmy is a poopy head.

#4 — Love

I learned to express my love long before she showed up. I don’t mind telling my buddies I love them, writing sappy prose, or tearing up at the right moment. But the love and bond between this little girl and me is different. I didn’t usually cuddle until she showed up, now I am a pro.

I always talked to my boys like they were men, never resorting to baby talk.

There is a dimension in my life now, that wasn’t there before.

Now, ending all my words with the letter “y” for three sentences, is completely acceptable. Pre-daughter I would never have a rainbow, unicorn, and heart sticker on my face (at least not all at once). Now, I’d go to the store as a sticky-facey-daddy. I love my wife, I love my sons, but what she brings out in me is not more, but different. And I love it!

#5 — Value

There is a dimension in my life now, that wasn’t there before. Cinderella (the band, not the movie) stood next to some lake, at sunrise, with electrical instruments and no electricity, and sang, “You don’t know what you got, till it’s gone.” I didn’t know what I had till she came around. Now Cinderella (the movie, not the band) makes me smile.

I love the color pink, Easter dresses, and cute little bunnies, because she does.

The value of these things went up considerably just five short years ago. I can’t imagine my life without glittery bicycles, mountains of hair accessories and huge neck hugs every day. And I don’t think I want to.