It’s funny. If you’re like me, you may have found yourself at times in situations where your parenting abilities have suddenly abandoned you. Gone is that strong, confident person from only moments before, and in their place is someone who momentarily questions whether they have any idea at all as to what they’re doing. You turn around and all of a sudden your child says that one thing, asks that one question, or repeats that one comment they overheard at school, and you realize just how little control you have over anything and that you cannot prevent them from growing up. Nothing can adequately prepare you for those moments. As much as you would keep your precious babies that way forever, they grow up right before your eyes and there is nothing you can do to stop it. In those moments, you might freeze (best-case scenario, really), overcompensate, overexaggerate, or simply spin out. In hindsight, we will probably look back at those times and laugh. In the moment, however, it may not be a laughing matter as we try to figure out how to best help prepare and protect our children as they move through youth into adolescence and beyond. Indeed, we may feel like the ball was just hiked to us in the football game of life, where we suddenly realize that not only are we the quarterback (and should know what to do), but that we are about to be tackled by defensive linemen whose sole purpose is to disrupt and destroy the person with the ball (which we have).
One such time happened to me not too long ago. My girls and I were watching a Lucasfilm animated musical feature called Strange Magic. If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s an animated film musical with an amazing (dare I say killer) soundtrack and a decent, if not all-too-familiar, storyline, which, to its credit, diverts from the traditional fairy-tale-prince-charming-to-the-rescue-happily-ever-after in favor of a more realistic, although still “happy,” ending. As the story unfolds, the fairy princess discovers that her prince charming to whom she is betrothed has another girlfriend as she catches the two of them kissing. I know. How unrealistic. So, what happens next? Prince charming tries to woo the fairy princess back. He wants to be king one day, after all, and to have his very own fairy army. He begs, pleads, and puts on a very convincing performance. Nevertheless, the fairy princess is no fool. Strong, intelligent, and a host of other positive attributes, she tells the prince that the wedding is off and that she is not taking him back. And she sticks to her guns. Respect. It’s during this time that my daughter, Anya, turns to me and says: “Oh, Dad, it’s okay he made a mistake. Everyone deserves a second chance. He said he was sorry…”
And just like that, in an instant, gone was the rational parent from only a moment before, and in his place was someone suddenly envisioning his daughter opposite a long string of would-be suitors apologizing one after the other for their infidelity and her taking them back. Never fear. Dad to the rescue. I mean, isn’t this what dads are built for? 😊 “No! I mean yes, sweetie. I mean no.” Caught off-guard and floundering, I was not off to a good start. After a moment of brief reflection, however, I continued. “You’re right, honey. Everyone makes mistakes and most of the time everyone deserves a second chance. I know the fairy prince said he was sorry and he said it very nicely. The question is, did he really mean it? Was he sorry because he hurt her feelings and broke her trust, or was he sorry because he was not going to be able to be king and get a fairy army?” Anya nodded slowly and responded, “Because he wanted a fairy army.” “Yes, remember how when she caught him he said something like ‘Dang it, there goes my chance to have an army’?” Anya nodded again. “More importantly, honey, some mistakes are bigger than others, and this is that type of mistake. The fairy princess deserves to have someone in her life who respects her and loves her and is honest all the time—someone who doesn’t make this type of mistake. Not even one time. I am sure the fairy prince will find someone else he can be happy with, and hopefully he won’t make the same mistake again with that person.” Indeed, happiness aside, the fairy prince had already found someone else, I thought to myself.
As the words spilled out, part of me wondered, “Do I even know what the heck I am talking about?” Strange magic? Stranger parenting. I knew in that moment that I was letting my fears—fears based on my own experiences and yet unfounded as they pertain to my daughter—cloud my vision. Still, somehow, I was able to muddle my way through and come out the other side. Maybe this is just part of being a parent. Most of the time we know exactly how to handle every situation. Most but not all. There are indeed times when we have doubts, and this is what makes us human. We question ourselves even as we project onto those closest to us, wanting a better life for them than the one we had and having learned (painfully or not) from our own mistakes and experiences. I do not know if the words I told my daughter resonated with her, and I am certain there was and remains a better way that I could have communicated my feelings and thoughts at the time. Still, I think the important thing was that I was there to begin with, that I took the time to say anything at all, and that I showed her that I care about her well-being and want her to be happy. I imagine her one day talking with a friend and saying something like, “Yeah, my dad talked to me about that,” as she reflects on one of these times. I smile at the thought. I smile even more knowing that she will make her own mistakes and have to learn her own lessons her own way. But what makes me smile the most is the thought of her knowing that I will always be there for her, always support her, and always want the best for her no matter what. And that, my friends, is its own kind of magic and how a family should be.