We all know that the single greatest influence of our children’s behaviors , at least in the early years, is ourselves. They are constantly watching our every move, listening to every word, mimicking both consciously and unconsciously. It’s a huge responsibility, the molding of a personality.
Some days we do a better job at being role models than others. For the past few weeks I have been a terrible example for one of the very first traits that we try and instill in them as future members of society. I have been a horrible sharer.
It’s not toys that I have been hoarding, not a secret stash of snacks that I have been hiding from the kids or an expensive bottle of scotch that I only drink when my wife isn’t home.
I’ve been bad at sharing my daughter.
Seemingly every day there has been a request for her presence. Texts, phone calls, e-mails from parents of her friends wanting to know what we are doing, when we can schedule play dates and sleepovers. I’ve been ignoring them all.
There have been some legitimate reasons. My wife and I both worked the holiday and will be on again this weekend. She spent some time with my parents, went to a few parties with her other grammie. The Connecticut Tigers have begun their minor league baseball season and have been gracious enough to schedule a lot of home games on nights that I haven’t been working. I can’t say enough times how much of a great way this is to spend a summer evening.
Mainly though, I’ve just been selfish. I’ve had a few extra days off and I’ve been enjoying them, enjoying the extra time with the kids. Lazy days reading by the pool, music pumping. Cannonballs, water gun fights, underwater races. After getting the television stuck and spending a morning watching woman’s college volleyball Alaina has invented her own version of the game, though I’m not sure about her score keeping. Yesterday she claimed to have beaten me 120-14.
Sooner than I’m ready, these days will pass. The fall will not only bring an end to our water sports but a return to school and the dramatic decrease in our time that my job imposes, a situation not likely to change soon.
So to anybody reading this that is among the snubbed, know that it isn’t personal. I’m sure that it won’t be long before I join your ranks, desperate for somebody else to amuse her for a few hours. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t appreciate the few breaks that I’ve had, the blessed silence that is so unobtainable when she’s around.
Just don’t call me, I’ll call you.