The Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and her Elf on the Shelf “Bell,” I often look at my daughter with a sort of envious admiration. Her ability to blissfully believe, and to see the good in so many situations, unjaded by the world around her, is something I genuinely miss and adore.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a pessimistic person by most accounts, but I’m also not exceedingly optimistic. For me, the glass isn’t half full, nor is it half empty, but rather, it’s twice as large as it needed to be. I am a realist. I see things as they exist, albeit perhaps with a tinge of optimistic cynicism, depending on the circumstances.

Even on the eve of her tenth birthday, I’m watching her play with Bluey figurines on the living room floor as she binge watches the award-winning show on our television, something that has become engrained in our familial subculture, often finding us all watching it together.

There’s a big part of me that remembers my own youth, in which I probably played with Lego much later than many of my peers likely did (I never stopped, actually), as well as other toys such as Micro Machines, and die-cast toy cars. 

In reading about the developmental differences of only-children in Psychology Today (which is something I have in common with my daughter), it’s asserted that certain likelihoods can exist, such as academic exceptionalism due to receiving so much unilateral attention, as well as a higher propensity for imaginative play due to not having siblings to engage in play with.

All of that seems to check out for both of us, as I couldn’t begin the count the endless hours spent cross-legged on my bedroom floor as I’d build creatively technical models out of Lego, and act out wildly imaginative scenarios with the iconic minifigures. 

As years would pass, the Lego collection would be stowed away in plastic bins (thankfully never to be sold or discarded), but I’d continue to sporadically add to the collection here and there, with much less frequency until the COVID-19 pandemic reignited my life for the colorful plastic building blocks.

Although my childhood innocence was lost well before then, throughout those years in-between, I’ve become somewhat jaded by the world that exists around us as the reality of becoming an adult have set in. Amidst all of the responsibilities of existence that everyone endures, there are also the frustrations that exist with the political and social climate as the divisiveness of our duopoly continues to drive a wedge further between not only the political parties, but also their voters. The alienation that exists is likely what precludes me from aligning with either of the two major political parties as I find them both to be fairly deplorable for different reasons.

I’ve made a career out of leading grown adults (well, most of them) in an extremely unique and demanding industry, and only in recent years have I found ways to compartmentalize how I handled situations at work when compared to how I handle situations at home. On the railroad, there was always a reasonable expectation that people adhered to a certain set of rules, policies and federal regulations, and it was my responsibility to hold them accountable for their actions, however, at home, when you find yourself striving to mold a child into a respectful, caring, intelligent being, there is no rule book- You simply must figure it out on your own, taking cues from family and friends as to what methodologies you believe will be the most effective.

However, I’ll admit, fatherhood hasn’t been an easy road for me.

Unfortunately, in the earlier years of my daughter’s life, I was much less… empathetic. Much the same as I had no rule-book to reference on how to be a dad, she also had no rule-book on how to be a child. I’d often resort to raising my voice, or yelling, to get her attention, and although effective at accomplishing that goal, in retrospect, I can’t say it was healthy, or well received, as I’d had a few friends point out that I was being too hard on her. 

It took me a while to realize how important it was that I actually take the time to listen to what she has to say so I can better understand her perceptions of the reality that exists in her mind, and to empathize with her problems, and how I can help her tackle them. This has opened up untold opportunities for dialogue to help guide her in difficult situations with kids at school, the dynamics that exist amongst groups of friends, schoolwork, sports, and the other perils of being a kid, especially in times like these.

I hope someday she realizes everything that’s gone into the opportunities that we’ve provided for her to have the childhood that she’s had, and it goes well beyond the things she has (and Lord knows she’s got plenty of things), but more importantly the things we’ve done. The hockey games, the trips to Disney World (and Disneyland in a few short weeks), North Carolina, Tennessee, the Sunday afternoons bowling, the game nights, and everything else we do as a family…

Admittedly, only recently have I begun to feel like I’m somewhat alright at this whole fatherhood thing, but I still recognize that I’ve got a long way to go to become the dad I want to be, although I think that’s always a work in progress that likely never ends, but when it comes to being a parent, as long as we’re trying our best, we’re probably doing just fine.