When my wife was pregnant with our oldest daughter, I didn’t handle finding out about the daughterness of the child extremely well. I don’t think I handled it as bad as my wife tells me I did, but it was already not one of my best moments as a father. I was ready to have a kid, but I wasn’t ready to have a daughter. Safe to say I’ve grown since then, and having two daughters now has been great. However, as kids tend to do, they have grown as well and I once again feel not ready to have a daughter.
The daughter that I was once seemingly unprepared to have in the first place is about to finish the 4th grade and turn 10 years old. Aside from marking the fastest decade ever, it also marks two big transitions for her – middle school and, ya know, lady stuff. A few weeks ago her teacher sent home a note saying that they would be starting health science topics in which the girls would be separated from the boys and they would be discussing their changing bodies. I remember a time when I was in grade school when that happened. All the boys when into one room and all the girls in another. We played paper football and watched part of The Neverending Story. I didn’t ask what went on in the girls room.
The note said that if we would rather her not be part of those discussions in school, we could sign a form and opt her out if we preferred to handle talking about it with her at home. We did not, though I had to wonder if there was some form that I could sign to opt myself out of these discussions. I mean, from a science standpoint, I get it. If my daughter has straight up scientific questions, I am perfectly capable of providing scientific facts. However, I admit that I am unprepared for anything beyond textbook definitions. As much as I am here to fight back against fatherly stereotypes, I have to admit that this time it hold true for me. Would I talk with my daughter about her hormones and her changing body? Out of obligation I must say yes. Am I much more likely to pull out the old “ask your mother”? Absolutely.
Not to fall back on gender roles, but to me, that is just something a mother should do. She handles anything related to our daughters’ puberty and I clean the hair out of the shower drain. She handles feminine hygiene and I kill spiders. Fair is fair. I also don’t think it would ever be something my daughters would come to me with anyway. They come to me for permission and boo-boos, two places where they’ve learned that their mother has no sympathy. They go to my wife for lady things, places they’ve learned that dad has no understanding. The yin and the yang, and household in perfect balance. Now, if my son has questions about his yang, those are on me and I understand that. And in a few more years when the ladies in the house all get synced up and the perfect storm rolls into our house every month, we’ll get the hell out of there and play paper football.
I also feel pretty unprepared for the social aspects that comes with middle school and all these early hormones starting to fly around. Cliques, frenemies, boys, each one worse than that last. Let’s face it, middle schoolers are generally dopes. I suppose all I can hope for is that my daughter is a well-meaning and kind-hearted dope. I can put in my effort to raise her to be a good person even if I can’t relate to what is going on with her and can provide helpful insight. Being a good person is universal, and I can help instill that in a hormone addled daughter the same as I can anybody else. Sure, I may get more eye rolls in response, but I can also take screen time away from a hormone addled daughter the same as I can anybody else.
My kids aren’t just growing, they are growing up. I get that. I don’t like it, but I get it. I’m sure I’ll adjust and grow and get used to all the changes, just in time for them to change some more.
I Think Therefore I Dad 