Just do it. That’s what i thought as watched the cursor blink on my phone after I decided to write.

I was going to write about my never ending parenting struggle.. which all things considered . hard indeed but not as bad as I ¬†exclaim when in the moment. More recently I found myself complaining that my daddy bought my daughter . ..the 11 year old that has lost enough sweaters and jackets to clothe a small village . $80 coat. I was peeved for a number of reasons. But suddenly my peeves were extinguished as i thought back before he bought the coat. I ¬†watched the way my daddy looked as he walked along side her in the department store to let her pick out any coat she wanted. She was all bubbly and bouncing and happy.. as she always is when hes around . I also noticed how he enjoyed the opportunity to let her have anything she wanted in that moment . It was as if he had the world tucked away in the pockets of his dusty, paint stained, ripped, and worn jeans and he was prepared to produce anything she asked for. . .or myself for that matter. This was one of the rare but frequent enough to remember times my daddy was proud of himself for being able to do for his family whatever we needed without difficulty or negotiation with his limited income. He was happy. so happy that I think he’d forgotten about his ailing knee and sore back . He hadnt complained about either if them once between the car ride from his house to the store.

I realized several things after I was finally able to be alone with my thoughts and tally my angst for my daddy’s insistence on spoiling my child.

  1. This is my daddy. This is the man that raised me, this is the man that spoiled me. Why should I expect any different of him because his new muse is my child. Full Disclosure: my daddy still spoils me…its just that the damage of it doesn’t blatantly affect anyone else because I’m an adult. My daughter on the other hand…will be my little monster to tame.
  2. They are both happy. My daddy and my daughter are happy together. I think she keeps him going. And he gives her someone to adore without a limit. She gets so excited when he is around that she loses all focus. “Pawpaw is here!” and whatever it was that she was doing or supposed to be doing…will NOT get done or will be forgotten.
  3. I really love my Daddy. He’s always been my favorite. My Momma knew it and she wasnt bothered by it either. He always held her up to me. Even when he was mad at her. He never badmouthed her to me when they were at odds. One time she pissed me off to no end and I was talking to him about it. He responded to me with limited words but I knew he was listening and then he said “thats your momma, you only get one momma, I dont have my momma any more. Thats your momma” Simple enough but I understood. I got it. It didnt decrease my anger at the time but I got his point. No matter how mad she made me. She was still my momma and he was still my favorite.
  4. Im suspicous of his actions lately. And maybe his relentless spoiling of my daughter is his way of soaking up all of the time they have together. Sure, he’s not on his deathbed or anything but he’s not the healthiest person. If there’s a diagnosis that he’s aware of. He probably wont tell me but he’ll carry on with a plan of his own to be as present for us as he can be. That includes him giving us copious amounts of money at random times even when he doesnt have much of his own.


Ultimately, parenting is hard for me. I find it difficult to make certain decisions and be present for certain things and control the environment. It makes me nervous and anxious. When things happen unexpectedly it throws me off my square and I have to recalibrate. But…I want to break the psychological mold that causes us to respond to the traumatic and negative experiences more frequently and more intensely than the positive experiences.

Me To Me: Just Do It, Stop Complaining!