There's something to be said about how my kids and their friends view me. Earlier this week, I missed my basketball game because my oldest daughter wanted me to come to her homecoming parade. I was honored. During a meeting this week, I was asked about my basketball game. I told them that I had missed it because of the parade and how it means the world to me that I continue to be invited to these school functions. I know the day will come when my daughters are too cool for me. When my daughters don't even want to talk to me. The day will come when I'm just not cool.
But for now, I'm going to continue to embrace the time I have with them and their friends. My oldest daughter has been going through some bullying issues at school. She shared with me what happened during our Thursday evening conversations. I was heartbroken. My baby, being bullied!? Nah, fam. I gotta handle this quickly! The reason she didn't tell me sooner was that she felt guilty. Guilt that she'd get in trouble, guilt that she might have done something wrong, guilt about my reaction. No matter how many times I share with them that as long as they tell me and don’t lie, we'll be perfectly fine. I'll believe them.
We came up with a plan, and I emailed her support system at school. It was handled immediately. She's back to her old self! Before heading out to the parade, I let her heat her beans and rice for dinner. She literally said she can eat that meal every day. I don't get it. But I appreciate it. She eats her meal, brushes her teeth, does her slicked-back hairstyle, and takes a shower in perfume. My baby isn't a baby anymore. It's precious, but I'm also so worried!
We arrive at the school, and she immediately sees her friends. I walk up with her and say “what's up" to all of them. They give me daps. I tell my daughter, “Do your thing; I'll be right here. When the parade starts, I'll be in this corner, and when it's over, I'll wait for you back here. Be careful and aware." And she's off. She's a quiet person. But loud and outgoing when she's in her element. Her friends bring out the best in her.
I truly appreciate the kids she's made a relationship with. In a way, they all are kind of alike. And I know their parents too, so we all just feel comfortable with each other.
I sat at the end of the parade route, and come to think of it, that was a mistake. I should have been in the middle of the parade; I would have gotten a better selection of candy. As the parade goes on, I see kids from my basketball team; they are excited to see me! I'm excited to see them! The football homies hand me some candy. The drama club is dressed up for their next show. In the distance, I see my daughter, smiling as big as ever. She's in her zone. She's getting closer and is looking around. She's looking for me. Closer. Closer. We locked eyes. Her stress lifted off her shoulders. She personally hands me candy for me AND for herself. We laughed, and she kept on her way.
The parade wrapped up; it was cute. Kids are just excited about tossing candy and being proud of their school. That's precious. School spirit!
As we got to the car, I felt a sense of pride, sadness, and overall joy. I thanked Camila for letting me be a part of her life and her friend's life. I also shared that I don't take this responsibility lightly. I love being involved in her school activities, listening to her hardships, and how she's comfortable with me being her safe person. “Dad, I tell everyone you're my safe person." At that moment I cried. I cried because I never had that. I cried because through all the bullshit I've been through, I'm still able to show up for both of my kids. They see the effort I put in for them, and it's paying dividends. They appreciate me more than I'll ever know. I love them dearly. I've worked so hard to be in this position. Through the tears, I smiled and thanked her. She said, "It's true!” I said, “I know, baby. It just feels good to hear. I'm here for you. Talk to me whenever."
Being intentional with my kids is important to me. I focus on their growth; I make sure they feel heard and seen. I want them to feel included. I want them to know they're loved. I want them to feel the love, the joy, the ups and downs of life; I want them to navigate it all. To have the tools to overcome adversity. I want them to know that I'm here and that I'm cool. Not chopped or cooked or an unc. In all seriousness, I love how proud they are of me. I'm their Dad.
Peace
