Still She Tugs
Biggest surprise of my life? Parenting. No matter how hard I try, I cannot escape feeling the complete and utter awe that surrounds the totality of the parenting experience. And yet, despite parenting being a nearly indescribable wonder, there is one moment–one fairly common and frequent action–that keeps surfacing which illustrates it perfectly.
More than the always surprising bump of my hand into hers as we begin to walk toward and away from the car, more than her exasperating desire to be picked up just when I finally can leave the hamburger helper to simmer on the stove, more than her double-checking nightly that after story-time when I get up to turn off the light I will be coming back to rub her for a bit before leaving her alone to dream, more than all these things is her firm tug on my fingers when she recognizes we will be parting for whatever practical reason.
I make her go to her bed when she’s “not even sleepy!” twice a day, and because I am sleepy I linger in my bed when she wants me to get out of it. Still she tugs.
Recently she brought over a toy digital camera and demonstrated first-hand just how annoying it must be to have me tell her that I’ll only be another minute on the laptop or phone for fifteen minutes at a time. (Point taken.) Still she tugs.
I bull-headedly push my play-time agenda to the point of tears when all she wants is to be with me. Still she tugs.
I make her wait as I putz around doing who knows what because I’m not looking forward to sitting on the ground to play stuffed-animals. Still she tugs.
I dictate the order in which she eats her meal and drinks her drink. Still she tugs.
I never let her play in the bath after she’s clean. Still she tugs.
I choose the bedtime story more often than not because I know that these stories will have a lasting impact. Still she tugs.
And no matter how much I want to stay with her, my decisions have given her the memory of constantly leaving one of her parents for the other for an entire childhood. And still she tugs.
I know the tugs. I was just saying to my wife the other night, joking of course, that with parenting, there’s just so much to do. But we do it, with love, and will forever. Nice piece, man.
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Thank you.
Pete
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So poignant. Those little people have such power over us.
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Yes they do. Thank you.
Pete
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What a beautiful post! Enjoy these years as they vanish so quickly. Mine is 25 and still she tugs!
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That’s great to hear. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Pete
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Great post brother! Very strong. I can relate!
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Thank you. I don’t doubt it.
Pete
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I know those tugs. I know I should have given into them more when the kids were little, and now they are grown and I can’t go back.
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Do you think they know? I bet that they now think that you lingered more than necessary back then. 🙂
Pete
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Beautifully said. Mine are adults, but every parting still has that tug.
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Oh, and thank you for following my blog!
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Thank you. Good to know. Once again, I’m pleased to discover that my experiences aren’t too different than others’. (And you’re welcome.)
Pete
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Beautifully put. Thank you.
Mine still holds onto my arm when I try to get up off his bed after reading and tucking him in at night. I think i have about 6 months-year before it stops. I’ll take it.
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You’re welcome. Yep, the post-reading lingering isn’t so bad, is it?
Pete
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I don’t have any children. But this made me think of my dad. I think I’ll give him a call tonight. Thanks for the beauty.
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Wow. Thank you. And you’re welcome. He’ll love it.
Pete
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Very nice! Makes me wonder how much my father probably didn’t feel like playing games with me when I was small but did anyway. I always watched Monday Night Football with him, even though I didn’t know anything about it. Now we watch the games together every week! Thanks for stopping by my blog!
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Thank you and you’re welcome. That’s great that you two have a “thing”.
Pete
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So very true. Always good to have a reminder to pause and enjoy the moments. “The days are long, but the years are short,” as they say. Thank you.
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Hey Melany,
You’re welcome.
Pete
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Love it! Such truth…they take over, not just tug! 😊
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Yes they do. Thank you.
Pete
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Reblogged this on nademlayaismyname and commented:
The father – daughter relationship is one of the rarest things that can happen nowadays.
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Thank you.
Pete
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You’re welcome! And thank you for liking my post.
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My youngest is now 47, and still he tugs. As do his brother, 48 and his sister, 50. It will never end, and until the day I die, I will never end a phone call or a visit without saying “I love you”. They have never doubted that, and they never will, even though there are times we don’t like each other. We all know the difference, and the love is deep and lasting. Embrace every second of her life, together or apart, and she will never doubt your love.
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Thank you for sharing. Happy to hear that you four are able to look deeper than the surface.
Pete
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Great post. I totally relate to this. Just last night I realised how little I gave into the tug, and I feel though much time has already passed, I am still fortunate to respond to these last childhood tugs. For that reason, I stopped fiddling with my writings and climbed into bed with my too big boy, and read a young children’s story. I hope he tugs at me some more, so I can do it again.
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Hey Susan,
Nice. I’m curious what story you chose?
Pete
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I am now getting the hang of the wp features…sorry for the late response. I don’t rightfully remember now, but since that night my 11 year old and sometimes my 14 year old come for some fairytale or the other. For me it is a special time, as we make new “childhood” memories…even in these adolescent years.
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Very beautiful post. I was just thinking something like this the other day while trying to get something done (probably working on one of my blogs). My boy (2.5 years old) starts with a tug and more often than not will interfere with what I am doing when it has been more than “2 seconds” later and I still haven’t given him my full attention.
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Thank you.
Pete
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My little munchkin is 4, and he tugs on so many different things. Sometimes it’s hard to give in, sometimes it’s impossible to resist. 🙂
Whether this is fiction, or has merit in your life, I hope you find happiness in your little tugs.
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Hey Sarah,
Nice. Inspired by reality. 🙂
Pete
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All the better! 🙂
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Gosh, this was beautiful. While I don’t have children yet, I look forward to these tugs.
P.S. Thanks for stopping by my blog. I look forward to reading your book!
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Thank you. You’re welcome. And thanks for being willing to check out the book. 🙂
Pete
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This brought tears to my eyes, yet a smile to warm my heart. Lovely piece, and although I’ve yet to know the feeling first hand, you described it in a way I could feel it. Thank you!
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Awesome. Thank you for letting me know. You’re welcome.
Pete
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Hi Pete. I nominated your blog for the Premio Dardos award. Whether you chose to accept it or not, I hope it brings more readers to your wonderful writing. Check out the post at http://mythsofthemirror.com/2015/01/26/premio-dardos-award/
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