Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Table Scraps, Volume #5: Peanuts and Parenting

Table Scraps are little bits of writing that aren't quite enough to be full posts. But just because they are little, doesn't mean they can't be shared. So every once in a while, I dust them off and throw them together.


I took the Bean to his first sporting event, the Harlem Globetrotters. Sitting in the stands, I taught the Bean to shell peanuts, the way my dad taught me when he took me to sporting events. While he seemed to enjoy watching the game, he was more interested in putting the empty peanut shells on his fingers and entertaining his friend, who had come with us. And it dawned on me as I watched him that I have created a little ham.


Everyone always talks about how daughters are supposed to loooooove their daddies. Daddies are their world. This has not happened to me with Sprout. Everytime I take what I think is a step forward in my relationship with her, she bluntly reminds me that I'm nowhere close to the center of her world. Right now, she refuses to give me hugs and kisses. Sometimes when I leave in the mornings, but always at night before she goes to bed. Sprout continues to cling to her mommy, just like she always has and maybe always will.  She is an impossibly frustrating child, wrapped up in a very cute package.  


It feels like I spend my time parenting a pre-schooler being elated and completely mesmerized and entertained by him to being blindingly mad at him. WonderWife™ and I have very different parenting styles. Mine is to get really frustrated and mad at him, which is always a great way to parent.


Your escalator operator said...

Interersting post, DGB. It sounds like moments like the peanut-shell fingers help keep things fun and interesting.

The Pipster said...

DGB, I haven't heard about Sprout, only Bean. She'll get to that point. Bean sounds like he is following in your geek boy (I say that with only the most gracious of intent) footsteps.

SciFi Dad said...

In my limited experience, daughters are far more maddening than sons (which, when you think about it, stands to reason: which gender of friends is easier to manage and maintain?)

ZenMom said...

Re: Girls. I was one. I still don't understand them. Don't try to hard.

I think I must steal this table scraps idea.

Keith Wilcox said...

The last time I saw the globetrotters was at the old Boston Garden sometime in the 80's. I'd love to see them again. Good times.

Daddy Geek Boy said...

YEO...The Bean finds a way to keep most things interesting.

Pipster...Unfortunately my little one, Sprout, doesn't get as much press as the Bean. Let's call it the second child syndrome. There will be more about her coming, though.

SciFi...I get that. Though everyone set my expectations of girls to be easier. Just another fact that the communal parenting knowledge base has gotten wrong.

Zen...I'd be honored if you adopt the Table Scraps idea. If you write the way I do, you'll have a lot of fodder for the column.

Keith...It was totally fun. They pretty much haven't changed.

SheSaid/HeSaid said...

I love your "Table Scraps" concept.

Give your daughter a couple years - she will come into her daddy-era.

My daughter, now 9, is totally daddy's girl. When she has her 'tweenager' attitude moments my husband looks at me as if to ask "What's her story" (to coin your earlier post). My only answer - "I can't help you there. Have you figured out what's my story yet?" I get . . . silence. I didn't think so. I may be a well-seasoned girl (42+ yrs), but I can't figure that girl out either. Then again, I can't figure out most girls - hell, they are too darn complicated. That's why most of my friends growing up were guys - they were so much easier to deal with.

Your mention of Harlem Globetrotters brought back some fun memories for me. Thanks for the flashback!

Daddy Geek Boy said...

SheSaid...I have a feeling that those who dig the "Table Scraps" idea are writers themselves. Anyone else is probably like, "Huh?" But I know that I have dozens of little bits of writing, a lot of which don't even get published.