Why My Daughter Won't Dance With Me

A couple weeks ago, my daughter's school had its annual Father-Daughter Dance.

My little date got all dressed up, I cleaned up as best I could, posed for some pictures, and off we went!  It was going to be a great night of laughing, having fun, and dancing with my little girl-- real quality father-daughter bonding time!

Except for one little snag: my daughter refused to dance with me.

My daughter is the black-and-white polka dotted blur running away from me.

As soon as we got there, she was off like a like rocket, right to her friends, who were running and chasing each other, sticking cookies into the chocolate fountain, you know, normal kid stuff.

And every once in a while (seriously, three time over two hours), the DJ played a slower song so the daughters could stop jumping and running and chasing, and actually dance with their fathers.  And they did.  Except for mine.

I tried, I really did.  I asked politely, I pleaded, I made the same pouting face she always makes at me.  Nothing worked.

She refused to dance with me.  She almost agreed, danced for two steps, then let go of me, pointed to a chair and said, "No, Dad, not this song.  Go sit down."

She can be a little bossy.

Quick digression: Can we please, as a society, find some better father-daughter dance songs?  This night, I was expected to dance to "Butterfly Kisses"  (gag me) and "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars (really!?).

There have to be better choices out there.  Sure, I'm having trouble thinking of any, but if we can get the entire internet community together on this one, I'm pretty sure we can crack this nut.  (The internet's not really being used for anything else right now, except passing around the same three pictures of cats with different captions.)

I'm a little partial to "Have a Little Fun With Me" by Glen Phillips. (Google it.  You won't be disappointed.)  Or how about "Gracie" by Ben Folds?  "Daughters" by John Mayer? 

I just realized I'm probably dating myself a little here.  Maybe Bruno Mars is really the best we've got these days.  But refuse to believe it!  You got a better suggestion?  I'd love to hear it.

Or else feel of wrath of every father who has been forced to dance to "Butterfly Kisses"!

End of digression.  Now back to your regularly scheduled blog, already in progress.

Was I disappointed that she wouldn't dance with me (even to really crappy songs)?  Did this hurt my feelings?  Did I feel a crushing sense of rejection that my own daughter refused to dance with me?

Well, no, not really. 

She was, after all, surrounded by kids her own age, all little girls, friends that she was excited to see.

Even still, just one song?  When all of her friends were dancing with their dads?

I believe that my daughter is going through a phase of increasing independence, which causes her to want to separate more from the family interactions and build more friendships/social relationships with her peers.

Sounds pretty good, right?

I have no idea if that's true.  I don't even know what half of what I just said means.

When it comes to parenting, I'm no expert.

Attachment parenting, parental detachment, helicopter parenting, tiger parenting, lotus flower parenting, penguin parenting, I have no idea what any of this means.  I only know one "style" of parenting and this is it: pay attention, and love unconditionally.

I figure everything else will more or less work itself out.

What I do know is this: watching my daughter at that dance, watching her stubbornly refuse to have anything to do with me, was one of the great joys of fatherhood.

Why?

Because of what she was doing INSTEAD of dancing with me.

My daughter walked into that gymnasium (okay, ran like cheetah who just spotted a gazelle-burger) and immediately engaged a group of her friends.  She started talking, and if they weren't listening, she'd keep talking until they did.

And when that group of kids ran off to do something else, and my daughter was left behind, she simply looked around until she found another group, and charged right into it.  She walked up to anyone and everyone, and immediately struck up a conversation.  Even when someone completely ignored her and walked away, there was no sadness, no sense of rejection.  She just looked for the next group, and away she went.

The thing is, I've never been able to do that.  Never in my entire life.  Put me in a room full of people, even people I know, and it will take me hours (and probably several beers) to work up to what my daughter was able to do within 5 minutes.

Whatever else I've managed to screw up (thanks to me, she's been calling guns "boomsticks" for the past 3 years), I've somehow managed to instill a sense of self-confidence in her that I've never quite been able to instill in myself.  I hope she is able to keep it, as it will serve her well in the future.

For now, I'm just happy to sit back, and watch her work the room better than Sinatra ever could.

Keep Calm, and Brew On

Being a parent is easy.  I didn’t even have to pass a test to become one.  That makes being a parent easier than driving a car, or getting into college.  Not even a background check.  Piece of cake, nothing to it, what’s the big deal?  I can sit on my butt, drink beer, and still be a perfect dad.

Parenting...

Yeah, right.

Parenting is hard. 

Fortunately, I'd read all the parenting books.  I was ready for the challenges of fatherhood.  I know how to engage with my daughter in a way she understands, I know how to redirect her when she gets upset, how to comfort her, how to properly discipline her without raising my voice or losing my temper.

I’m just kidding, I don’t know any of that stuff.

No, as much as I love my daughter with all of my heart, sometimes she drives me nuts. Sometimes, I raise my voice.  And sometimes, I have no idea if what I’m doing, despite every good intention, isn’t totally screwing her up for the rest of her life.

What I’m trying to say is, we do our best as parents, filled with the often-contradictory information about what is good for kids and what isn’t, unsure about what will actually make a difference in their lives, and filled with the awe-inspiring knowledge that we can either prepare them for their future success or failure with every minor decision we make. 

No pressure.

So we agonize over seemingly trivial choice: Which elementary school should she go to?  What educational philosophy should we embrace?  (Spoiler alert: It’s not Montessori.)  What sports should she play?  Ballet or gymnastics?  Flag football or cheerleading?  Will giving her chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast increase her risk for type 2 diabetes in 20 years?  What summer camp should she go to?  How on earth are two working parents supposed to figure out summer vacation?

And why can’t anyone answer these questions for us!?

I know when things start to get stressful at work, I start to think I need a day off.

But you never really get a day off from being a parent.  It’s something of a lifetime commitment.

I’m generally a laid-back, roll-with-the-punches kind of guy (which is why my daughter always asks me about those aforementioned chocolate chip pancakes), but I’ve been feeling the pressure a lot more lately. 

Part of this stems from my job, which has become a lot more stressful lately.  I know better than to let my work-life interfere with my home-life, but hey, life happens.  On top of that, my daughter has turned into a fiercely independent free-spirit, which I’m, on the one hand, proud of and grateful for.   

On the other hand, when you’re on a tight schedule, convincing said free spirit to stop dancing around the driveway and get the g*&%@#m car is not always the easiest part of the day.

So, I’ve been working on my mantra:

Keep calm, and brew on.

How is that going to help?

It has to do with beer and monks.

I’m brewing a Belgian ale in the style of the Belgian Trappist monasteries.  And making a Trappist beer means a lot more than following a recipe.  It means thinking like a monk.

This may seem a little strange, but I find something very compelling about the monastic lifestyle of simplicity and work, prayer and meditation.   I always figured that being a monk could be a decent fall-back plan, although I’d always assumed I’d become a Taoist monk, since they had Kung-Fu, but Christian monks have beer, and that’s almost the same thing.  (That sentence alone shows how little I truly know about Taoism, kung-fu, and monasteries.)

And how does one make a Trappist beer?

Well, there are no end of recipes out there, but to really make something special, I believe you first have to embrace the core principles of monastic brewing:  study, self-sufficiency, and patience.

As it happens, these are three things that I find are in all too short supply in our everyday lives.  Convenient how that works out, don't you think?

So first, we need to learn about the beer, study the brewing process and understand what makes Trappist beers different from other beers.

I started by drinking some Trappist-style beers.  (Research is hard...)  Next, I looked into the brewing process, and identified the differences between brewing Trappist ale and other beers. Two things popped up immediately:  yeast and sugar.

As it turns out, the Belgian beers of Trappist monasteries rely on specific strains of yeast for their unique flavors.  This isn't too surprising.  I've found that yeast plays an important role in most Belgian beers.  Which makes me think, what's the deal with Belgian yeast?  Did Nature just get drunk when it came to Belgium?

"Most Gratuitous Use of the Word 'Belgium' in a Serious Screenplay or Beer Blog"

Belgian beer is also made with large amounts of sugar (dubbed “candi sugar”).  Most brewers, especially in this country, turn up their noses at brewing with sugar, believing it cheapens the final product.  However, Belgian Candi Sugar, which looks exactly like un-colored rock candy, can be found in most homebrew stores.  But it turns out, that isn’t the candi sugar they’re talking about.  Trappist Monks use a dark caramel syrup that they call candi sugar, and it's not easy to procure outside of Belgium.

That seemed to pose a problem.

But monks are also a self-sufficient bunch.  They probably don't buy their beer supplies at some homebrew store.  So, I decided to make my own candi sugar syrup by cooking sugar until it carmelized.

So, where did that leave me?  Well, having embraced the monk’s example of diligent study, I had done my homework on the strain of yeast to use.  Embracing self-sufficiency, I'd even made my own candi sugar.  Now I came to the most important lesson of monk-style brewing: patience.

Beer (for fear of repeating myself) requires a lot of patience.

And as I put the beer into the basement to ferment and age, I downloaded some Gregorian chants to play, just to make the yeast feel at home.  And on the stairs leading down to the basement, I put up a friendly reminder to, please, be quiet.  The beer is resting. 

In Dutch.

Maybe it was the chants, maybe it was the soft sound of bubbles of carbon dioxide gurgling through the airlock, but as I waited for the beer to ferment and mature, I began to think and to reflect, which is, I believe, one of the reasons that monks brew such strong beers.  Waiting for them to mature gives one ample time for reflection.

Maybe, at the monasteries, they consider the nature of existence, or the way God manifests His will.  I don’t know, go ask a monk.

I took that time to consider my role in this world, and my role as a father and husband.

I’ve decided that, as long as I follow certain simple rules, I won’t screw my daughter up (too much).

1)        Be patient, especially with yourself.  It’s okay to lose your temper, that’s what tempers are for.  But if you find yourself yelling, take a breath, calm down, and apologize.  That’s what you would want them to do.

2)         Teach by example.  Your kids will listen to almost nothing you say, but will see everything you do.  Be the kind of person you want them to be.

3)         Keep it simple.  Like the monks, practice self-sufficiency.  Don’t spend money on a movie or a new toy, when a cardboard box and a pack of crayons can yield a long afternoon of fun and excitement.

4)          As long as you love your children, you're doing a lot more right than wrong.

5)         Value learning.  Like the monks.  Because if you value learning, your children will value learning (see Rule 2).

6)     But most of all, be patient.  Keep calm, and brew on.

If that fails, just flip to the Troubleshooting part of the manual.  (You did get one, didn’t you?)