My daughter is terrified of me
And I couldn’t be prouder.
No, I’m not abusing my child, and don’t even go there. I’ve never raised my hand to her, and I think I would personally rip the spleen out of anyone who did. No, it’s extremely rare that I ever even raise my voice
All in all, she is an incredibly happy child, and the high point of my day is seeing her run to me and jump into my arms at the days end.
Today, there was no running, no jumping. I learn from the wife that she and the daughter had a little disagreement on the way home from school; nothing major, the daughter just said something unkind to the momma, and realized what she’d said and apologised. When she heard the garage door open, though, she rushed to the momma and said, “Please don’t tell daddy”.
The wife said “We don;’t keep secrets from daddy. No secrets, at all, ever.”
The daughter was in tears.
When I confronted her, she told me the whole tearful story.
When you’re trying to raise a child, and you have only the training of memory, and you hope not to make the mistakes your parents may have made, or the ones you see friends making, you often have no guide.
I do. My daughter was so fearful of my disaproval that she was afraid to tell me of even the most insignificant transgression. No, she knows nothing will stop me from loving her. She knows I’ll never hurt her. She knows she can make the wrinkly chin pouty look and only want to hug her and make it all better. She fears nothing as much as she fears my disaproval. It’s a teensy, tiny sign that just maybe, We Are Doing It Right.
I remember those feelings. I always sought my father’s approval, always feared his disdain. “Wait until your father gets home” was a threat with some substance in our house. And while dad administered the occasional asswhipping, there was NEVER a time I didn’t deserve what I got, and THEN some. That never affected me as much as his scorn. He could hit me all he wanted, as long as he didn’t disapprove of my actions, that was murderous. While I got in probably a bit more than my share of trouble, I was prevented, then and now, from being too bad by my fear of my fathers disaproval.
That model may not be the best one for childraising, according to the “experts”, but it worked on me, and if my daughter becomes the person I could have been if I was smart, she’ll do fine.
Fathers naturally are seen as the Authority figure.Sounds like the Daughter Unit has the best of both worlds there-Modern man empathizing, and Neanderthalis protecting, yes?
Thanks for the comment on Redsugar, man.
Australeopithically,
chris
Hell, Chris, you DO rock. On ice. And if I was good enough to do so, I’d put your strip on my page. Meanwhile, I’m telling everyone I know to see your site, and I quiz them daily to make sure they’re doing so.
I remember saying exactly what your daughter said many times. I was scared of my dad, but what really tore me up was when Mom would tell him something bad I did, and they’d both stand there glaring, like a team allied against me. I could have taken the scorn from Mom, or Dad, but both of them together just crushed me.
I’m 22 now, and I turned out pretty well, with a definite respect (nay, a terror) for authority.
(I do think there’s a difference between not keeping any secrets from Dad and not telling him every little indiscretion. I remember how grateful I was to Mom when, after I’d apologized, she’d neglect to tell Dad that I had stuck my tongue out or demanded a cookie in the grocery store)
kewl.
later, N!