What I Want For My Children & Random Thoughts
My daughter is in love with Dora. Ok, that is not entirely accurate. She is in love with her big brother. She has no bigger hero than him. And of course it makes him crazy to have his little sister follow him around and try to imitate him.
Don’t misunderstand, he loves her too and he appreciates the attention. Yet like most big brothers he has his moments in which he wishes that she wasn’t always around to bug him and his friends.
A few weeks ago we were at the park. I love to sit there and watch them play. I like seeing them interact with the other children. It is important that they learn how to socialize and get along with others. They need to learn how to take of themselves and how to solve problems. That is why when I see them have disagreements with others I like to sit back and see if they can handle it. It is good for them.
On this particular day I saw another little girl pushed my daughter. And then I saw the advantage of having a big brother. He came running over to defend his sister. He wasn’t going to allow anyone to push or take advantage of her. I should add that the little girl who pushed my daughter tried to push him too. She didn’t get very far before my daughter screamed at her to leave her brother alone.
This took all of two minutes. It wasn’t a big deal. Just one of those silly playground incidents. The girl’s mother was there as was I. It took us parents all of one minute to straighten it out. To quote Chick Hearn, “No Harm, No Foul.”
But what I really was happiest about was seeing that my children have learned to look out for each other. It made me proud to see them defend and care for each other. Obviously I don’t want them to get into fights or any sort of situation in which they can get hurt, but things are going to happen. There is a certain comfort level knowing that they already have a bond.
I want this bond to continue. I hope that the sibling love carries itself into a nice friendship. I don’t plan on dying any time soon, but the time will come when I really won’t be around any longer.
I was 35 when my daughter was born. By the time she is in high school I will be about 50. If I want to keep the boys in line I am really going to have to dive back into working out. I remember being a high school boy. I remember the fathers of the girls I dated. I had no fear of any of them. I was young and dumb.
Say, do you think that in 15 years the Godfather will still be big? Maybe I can tell those boys that come seeking my daughter’s attention that my name is Don Vito. When they walk into the room I’ll tell them about my brother Fredo.
Reality check. You see the thing about being a parent is that you have this incredible love. There is a depth that you can’t really explain. There is this incredible pride and joy that comes with it too. And then on top of that is the most bone chilling fear you can imagine that G-d forbid something might happen to your child. The fear of that pain and loss can really eat away at you.
So you do what you can to just let it go. You remind yourself that the population of the world is not shrinking and that thankfully tragedy doesn’t happen to everyone. But at the same time there is that little voice. You read blogs that are written by other fathers/mothers and you see that people just like yourself suffered an unimaginable loss.
It is enough to make you completely neurotic. But again, only if you let it.
Let my children be safe, be healthy and let them know the joy/love of a sibling.
On a different tack I want my children to understand and appreciate the value of an education. To be perfectly candid I don’t care about grades. They are relatively meaningless to me. For a brief time in your life they are an over hyped and overstated measurement that you have to deal with.
No, what I want is my children to love to learn because of the pure joy and satisfaction that it brings into your life.
I want my children to grow up to be people of character and integrity. I told my son that people cannot take your honor, your dignity or your integrity. They cannot truly be stolen, but if you let them they can be lost. It is a little sophisticated for a boy who is almost 6, but it is important.
My son and daughter learned long ago about daddy’s secret. I hope that one day they can share this secret with their own children.
There was more to this post, but I couldn’t bring myself to keep it. I think that I am going to just cut this off here.