Most parents jump in at the ground floor when their babies still have that 'new car smell'. You know, the toxic smell of poop and vomit that we are all supposed to love?
I jumped to parenting with a child that already had 2 and a half thousand miles.
Talk about a new experience...
I never really experienced what it was like to be around children. Most of my friends either have children who are already grown, or are just now starting to have them. Initially I was a little uncomfortable around them... they are too fragile. They shit themselves, they wet themselves, they puke, they cry, they fart at all the wrong times... there IS a right time, and it usually involves getting off an elevator. Then I met my wife... she had a 2 and a half year old from another relationship. Not only was I new at this whole kid thing, but it was a very different experience dating a single mother.
We didn't have a whole lot of time for just us... not only was I getting to know my future wife, but I was getting to know her daughter... and you know what? It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it was kinda fun. I was smack dab in the middle of my mid thirties when we met, but I always felt, and still do feel, like I'm stuck at around 25. Being around a child meant that all of a sudden, I had a #1 fan who laughed at every single one of my jokes... EVERY - SINGLE - ONE! I can't even say that about my wife, who laughs at many of them, but sometimes I think it's only to humor me.
Oh sure, there were plenty of instances of freaking out for no apparent reason, collapsing on the floor, crying about nap time, or snacks... but I eventually stopped doing those things. Every instinct in my body was pointing me to the role of a Dad... How to teach, when to be patient, when to be stern, punishment, reward... all of that. The hard part was figuring out if I was allowed to act like a Dad and then letting myself actually BE one. For a while, I kind of shielded myself from not getting too attached to another father's daughter. I wanted to allow space for her own biological Dad to be in her life, and definitely did not want to be the guy to come sailing in and take over or even look like I was trying to force the other Dad out.
I say that guy is her Dad, but only barely. To this day, I have yet to see him actually do anything. He couldn't even be bothered to get in a vehicle and drive to see her. This is not about him though... this is about me and my relationship with her. For a long time, my fear of damaging their relationship kept me from really having a relationship with the girl who would soon become my daughter. All of this changed when my wife and her (now my) daughter moved in.
There were a lot of changes, not all of them were easy for the little one to handle. By this time she was 4 and becoming a very demanding little girl. There were many tears shed and many screaming fits to be had... and then came the night that my wife went out with a friend while I watched the little one. This was a huge turning point in our relationship. Huge...
Up until this point she was often disrespectful to me. She only listened to Mom, always had to verify everything I said with Mom, gave me dirty looks, glared at me when she was angry... To be fair, she did give her Mom the dirty looks and glares as well, but they seemed disproportionately skewed my direction.
That night she decided she wasn't going to bed without one of her 'snuffed animals' that we had taken away for disciplinary issues. She put her foot down and declared she wouldn't sleep without it. She was testing my authority and I knew it... and if I wanted her to respect me at all, I could not back down. She screamed at me, I raised my voice, she screamed some more, and I still didn't relent. Then, her will to fight completely shattered... Her lip quivered, a tear fell, and then she collapsed on the bed, defeated. I was angry, so I left the room and told her I would come back and talk to her when she calmed down... I needed to calm down as well. When I came back, I sat down on her bed... she threw her arms around me and we talked... calmly.
That wasn't the last time she tested me, but it was a turning point in our relationship. It probably sounds like it went down worse than it actually did... Mom and I agreed that no matter how the other felt about something, if one of us made a discipline call, the other would back it. If we disagreed about it, we would talk about it later, but as far as the little one was concerned, we were a united front.
Time passed, we grew closer as a family, I still find myself wondering sometimes... is it OK if I am her Dad? Recent events, which I will not go into, tell me 'Yes', not only is it OK if I am her Dad, but it is imperative that I am her Dad... and while I am not her Father by birth, I am really the only Dad she has. We learn from each other... I teach her about life, she teaches me what it means to be a Dad.
