Our Daughter, The Just-So Girl

Observers might determine that my wife and I are at crossed purposes in how we deal with our daughter, but in the end, we both desire the same results.  We want our daughter to grow up with a clear vision of who she is, what she wants, and have the ability someday to make the right decisions.

Everybody says that daddies have special relationships with their daughters, and I will admit that I am just as guilty of this accusation as any other father might be.  I state vehemently that I love my daughter and care for her very much.  I melt like a chocolate bar on a hot summer day whenever I hear the words, "Daddy, you're my best daddy."  I am the proverbial doting dad, who becomes as flexible as Playdoh when she needs to wrap me around her little finger because she wants something, has to have her way, or mommy isn't bending to her will.  I never knew that a four-year-old girl could have such firmly fixed ideas already about what she wants in life, but she does.  My wife, who loves our daughter very much also, has said occasionally that I might be spoiling our daughter, but I'm not.  I admire her little girl's spirit of defiance, her volition, and her unflinching ability to stand up to anyone who stands in her way.  She seems to know what she wants, and does whatever she feels is necessary to achieve her goals.  And while my wife thinks I give in too much to our daughter's will, I am definitely not spoiling her.  As her father, I was brought into this world to see to her needs and help her accomplish her dreams and desires, and provide a protective, secure, environment exactly the way she thinks it should be.  For her, everything has to be perfect; it has to be consummate and unadulterated.  It has to be just-so.

"Just-so" might be a bit of an understatement.  But it is the only way to describe how the minutia of our daughter's life has to be exactly the way she wants it all the time.  I must add also, that the unfortunate bearer of dissatisfaction when something isn't just so is generally my wife, her mother.  She is the one who has to tend to so many of the details required.  It is not that I don't want to be involved in the matters that demand such delicate attention; it is just that my wife is always the one who takes care of them.  In the past, I offered my services to our daughter frequently, but my wife claims I don't have the perspicacity for knowing how a young lady likes things done.  My wife does.  Therefore she is the pitiful one who must do this or that for our daughter however she wants it done, not daddy.  In addition, I have been chastised once too often, accused of making decisions based more on compliance rather than sound judgment.  Such as when I gave in and let our daughter wear her Tinkerbell nightgown over her new shirt and jeans for school.  What did I know?  I thought she was making some sort of statement.

It is an ironic twist that my wife is chosen as the only one who can style the perfect coif, choose just the right barrette or ribbon as the appropriate accessory for it, or select the correct shade of socks to go with our daughter's favorite green dress.  Yet, for whatever reason, despite her best attempts, and the fact that my wife is chosen as the one most competent for the task, it seems she can't ever perform to our daughter's satisfaction.

Fortunately for me, mom is the one who has to help her get ready in the morning.  I am not welcome by wife or daughter to offer any assistance or opinion.  I am resigned to sitting in another room while I listen to my wife's frustration.  She loses her patience ultimately when she has tried to provide whatever our daughter has asked for, only to find that she didn't do something right.  Ten or fifteen minutes are spent on her hairdo and when it isn't just so, our daughter undoes it in seconds.  When the hair is done right, but the proper color barrette or ribbon isn't used, for some reason the hair suffers and our daughter messes it up in disappointment.  When mom doesn't choose the right color socks, by our daughter's estimation, off comes the outfit and the whole lengthy, decision-making process of what to wear begins anew.  I guess I don't understand why my wife has such a problem making everything perfect for our daughter.  Perhaps it is the differences in fashion sensibilities females share that makes them battle.  I think the purple socks our daughter chose look great with the green dress, and if she wants to wear her heavy, white, faux polar bear fur coat to school when the high temperature for the day is expected to hit seventy, I say let her.

It is this relentless battle that ensues each day, which results in endless frustration for my wife and makes her late for work and my daughter late for school.  My son and I stand in our jeans and tee shirts, watching them, scratching our heads, unable to understand.  I carefully observe and privately express to my wife that perhaps our daughter is just trying to find her place in the world.  She doesn't know fashion from a jelly and bologna sandwich.  If the temperature rises during the day, I say we hope she has the common sense to not wear the hot, hairy coat, or at least to take it off as quickly as she puts it on.  I believe she is trying to feel her way towards the adult world of style and self-expression, and is hurting no one nor embarrassing us in the process.  She makes me proud that she boldly decides what she wants and will defy anyone who tells her she can't, or that she can't have it be just so.  I also know that as the years pass, my wife won't have to say anything to her about what to wear or how to wear it.  The defiance and determination our daughter expresses now should ultimately be tempered by experimentation, failure, and her embarrassment at having possibly made bad choices.  The status quo and peer pressure of her friends will probably dictate that.  But this will be part of growing up, and eventually she will make the right decisions on her own.  My wife knows that and agrees.  She is trying to teach our daughter how to do things for herself like her older brother learned to do.  For some reason he adapted a little quicker.

Our daughter needs time however, to refine her tastes and expectations, and my wife needs to pick her battles wisely.  I anticipate fully that we will have much bigger battles to fight in the years to come over issues more important than clothes, hairstyles, and accessories.  And hopefully, by letting her have more freedom to make choices now in her desire for self-expression, she will have developed the confidence and wisdom to make the choices that will count in the future, during her teen years perhaps.  Hopefully, our daughter will understand then that the freedom she enjoys came from the freedom we gave her today, the freedom to choose and be who she wants to be.  For now however, much to my wife's chagrin, I say let our daughter be who she is.  The really important thing is that we are consistent and that we are sending the right message to her.  And if my wife ultimately concedes a battle, or our daughter runs to me for support, there are also times when my wife doesn't surrender and daddy doesn't give in.  There are also times amazingly, when our daughter decides on her own that whatever mom has done is perfect, or that mom is right about choices she made.

In the years to come, when she is going out for the evening, we'll tell her that we love her, and hope secretly that she'll know to do the right things based on how she was raised.  And as she turns to say she loves us, we'll know by her reassuring smile that we have nothing to fear.

For us, everything will be just-so.  Even if she is still wearing purple socks with a green dress.