Tiffany’s post about the gender differences playing a role in single parenting reminded me of what I admit is obviously lacking in raising my daughter, first hand experience. I grew up having three older sisters, a mother and…later in life… I had a wife for nine years. I knew from listening what it is like to grow up as a young girl but I had never actually experienced it. I didn’t know what it felt like to grow up in the mind of a young woman.
During adolescence, I knew the science behind the changes my daughter was going through better than some of my adult female friends. I was able to explain to her what she was going through, about to go through and even why she was going through it. I could tell her stories of how the women I know dealt with those changes and what they told me they had felt. But I couldn’t share with her personal accounts of the experience because I had none. We talked about this very openly and she was amused that I could tell her so much about being a girl then hop in my truck and go build a house.
Let’s face the facts, there is a difference between males and females. I have yet to see an aisle in the grocery store devoted entirely to male hygiene products. And it was a delicate role for me to play, I never claimed that I had to be both parents but I did have to fill in for Mom on occasion due to proximity. There were times when I had to make fashion decisions, explain what the feminine hygiene products were and still retain enough manliness to rescue her from the creepy bug she found in the bathroom.
I don’t know any women who were raised by single fathers and I’m not sure if there are any statistics on how these young women turn out compared to daughters who are raised by single mothers. In the end, my hope is to have a well adjusted daughter who knows the importance of matching foundation to her skin tone and what spark plugs she should buy when she is tuning up her car.
Mike, watching Tiff raise a girl alone I have to say that I think you’ll do as well as Tiffany, Granny, Poppa, and Auntie dani all throwing in whatever we’ve got. Tiff has the bulk of it, of course, but we’re all here a half-mile away to confuse matters. The importance of exfoliating and the dangers of cheap flatirons fall to Mom and me. Dad can start growling about regular oil changes and checking tire pressure in a mere two years. (I prefer to call my sister when my car does something I can’t figure out; she’s growl-free.)
Sounds simple, right?
Wrong.
It’s so damned easy for any of us to look in at the two of them and think, “If she were MY kid, I’d…”
Yeah. Well, she’s not. But the thought still comes, internal monologues fail to stay internal at times, and the fact of the matter is, none of us know what it’s like to be this particular fourteen-year old girl. She’s a lot like me. She’s a lot like her mother. I see her dad in her, too.
Fortunately, life is not an old General Foods International Coffee commercial, and she is nothing like when you eat chocolate, your boyfriend eats a mint, and you kiss.
Daughter, son, two parents, single parent, only child, the idyllic notion of the grandparents’ house a quick bike ride away–ultimately, isn’t the whole point just that you’re available and trying?
Once again, I’m only looking in, but from what I’ve seen with my sister and my friends, single or nuclear with minivan, raising anyone is educated guesses and crossing your fingers and praying.
I suppose it is all educated guesses with certain aspects that are a must. Like you mentioned, being available and trying is one of those important factors that is not optional.
you two rally make a lovely couple.