In his article, “A Message To All My Childless Readers,” my dear brother says the following:
“It’s possible that having a daughter is wonderful. It’s also possible that owning a Harley-Davidson Road Glide is wonderful. But I don’t know, because I don’t have either. So I won’t say. “
I will. Having a daughter is wonderful.
I won’t lie to you, though. I remember going to the OB/GYN office on the day that Mrs. Bark and I were scheduled to find out the sex of our second child. My son, Kevin (who is named after my father—we have a stunning lack of originality when it comes to naming children in this family), had been the joy of my life since he was born. In somewhat of an odd twist, I had a child a year before my older brother did. In fact, I believe that being around my infant son may have given Jack’s baby momma the idea that she definitely wanted to have a child after years of insisting that she didn’t. But, I digress.
On that day, I was hoping and praying that we’d find out that we were having a second boy. I remembered the fun that my brother and I had playing together growing up. Although the six year age gap and eight year gap in our schooling (Jack skipped two grades, and my father still calls making that decision “the greatest mistake of my life,” so I stayed right where I was) prevented us from doing some things together, we still rode bikes every day, played basketball, went sledding, collected baseball cards, constructed elaborate scenes with Transformers—you know, all the stuff that boys like to do. I was thrilled that my son might have the opportunity to do for his little sibling what Jack had done for me—which was, in effect, to be a third parent. Somebody I could confide in and trust when I couldn’t confide in or trust anybody else. To be a Big Brother to a Little Brother.
So when the doctor looked at the ultrasound images and proclaimed confidently, “It’s a GIRL,” I had to summon every last ounce of acting ability I had to say, “Yay!’ However, I was terrified inside. I didn’t know what to do with a girl. I mean, I know we’re in this era of the Womyn and girls can do everything that boys can do and blah blah blah HOW THE HELL DO I MAKE A PONYTAIL?
Jack’s right about one thing. Nobody tells you that you won’t feel an instant connection with your first child. Everybody romanticizes it and tells you these stories about how they melted the first time they held their child in their arms. I call Bullshit. That’s revisionist history. With your first child, if anything, you feel afraid. You wonder what you’re supposed to do with it. You wonder if you’re up for any of this. I remember thinking that if somebody came and wheeled my son away, I’d wave goodbye to him and then go about my day.
But with my daughter, my sweetest Regan Victoria, it was different. Maybe it was because she was my second, and I already knew how much I loved and cared for my son. Maybe it was because I was less afraid that I’d be the world’s worst father. And maybe it was because she was a girl. I remember looking at her in her little plastic crib, and I began to cry. I cried because I knew someday this little, brand-new to the world baby girl would die someday, and that I wouldn’t be able to stop it. I instantly wanted to defend her from the evils of the world.
Whereas I have never doubted for a minute that my rough-and-tumble son could protect himself, I have made Regan my little princess. She sees the world through crystal-clear confident eyes. She knows exactly what she wants and is never afraid to ask for it.
One day, I was sitting at the kitchen table with her as she was making some homemade greeting cards. She had been using white construction paper and decorating it with all sorts of heart stickers and pink markers. When she ran out of white paper, she asked me if she could have some more. Unfortunately, we were all out.
“Well, Regan, we don’t have any more white paper, but we have pink and red. That could be pretty,” I answered.
She glared at me. “Um, Dad, I’m pretty much all about white.” From a four-year-old. My goodness. I’m in trouble here.
So while she might be a ballerina, she’s also a soccer player. While she might love Elsa and Anna, she also loves Skylanders. That’s the cool thing that nobody tells you about raising a girl in today’s world—even more so than boys, they really CAN do everything.
And the thing I wanted most, that bond between siblings—look at that picture and tell me if you think it exists. It’s even better, because Kevin knows that his most important job in life is to take care of his little sister, and he takes that very, very seriously.
Yes, Jack, having a daughter is wonderful.
Terrific pix ! .
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For the record , I was scared shitless and unwilling to be a Father , I was there , shaking like a leaf in a gale as he arrived and the Good Doctor , bless his heart & wisdom , wiped him off , wrapped him in a towel and handed him to me , saying ‘ Mr. Hall , here is your Son ‘ .~ I looked into those tiny little eyes and *CLICK* the world changed , instantly and forever ~ yes I was still uncertain and scared , how could _I_ ever do right by this tiny infant but things have a way of working out .
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Have fun now , before you realize she can easily wrap big old manly man you around her pinky finger any time she wants , because she _WILL_ , count on that =8-) .
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-Nate
O.B.T.W. :
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I don’t think you’re supposed to give Quaaludes to the cat .
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-Nate
Wait. What?
Why am I only finding this out now?
Dammit.
🙂
We kept it a surprised and our first was a girl, and I felt the same way you did at first. But she grew up to adore me and the things we do together. She’s really a lot of fun. The only thing I’m worried about is the teenage years.
Thank you for sharing that, Jack and Bark. Both of your perspectives on fatherhood are so profound that I was literally moved to tears… No, I’m not crying, I’ve got something in my eyes. Can I have a tissue, it three?
I started thinking about how much I love my own father and his father, my grandpa who we lost a couple years ago. That feeling of love and respect and admiration for the greatest man I know, my own dad, is deep and has been built up over my lifetime. I’m a lucky son, and I realize that I probably need to start my own family soon.
Both of your posts extolling the joys of parenting are great, but I have to ask the hopefully not-too-impolite question: what was the inspiration for the name “Regan”? I ask as someone who has read “King Lear,” and is thus a bit concerned on your behalf, about the paternal consequences of raising a princess with that name :).
Ha. Yes, we opted for the Shakespearean spelling of “Regan.” The main reason for this was that I didn’t want some hyper-liberal, sixth-grade Social Studies teacher telling her that she was named after the Devil if we spelled it “Reagan.” Ol’ Ronnie was definitely an inspiration.
Also, we had been going back and forth between “Victoria” and “Natalya.” However, we both knew a total skank in college named Victoria, and once the Mrs. found out that my reasoning for naming her Natalya was because of the incomparable Isabella Scorupco’s performance in “Goldeneye,” we were forced to go on a new name search.
Ten minutes into reading a baby name book one night, I came across “Regan,” and it just looked right when I wrote it down. We agreed on it nearly instantly. That next night, our hostess at a restaurant was a charming young girl named Regan. It seemed like it was meant to be.
“Jack skipped two grades, and my father still calls making that decision “the greatest mistake of my life,” so I stayed right where I was”
I skipped one, mid year, and was given the final word on it. For what are likely different reasons, concur with your father’s assessment.
My son also takes care of his little sister. And yes, having a daughter is wonderful.
Just an aside…the new skylanders launches in September. I’m deciding which organ to part with to finance this next round.
I know! VEHICLES! Kind of excited about it.
My son and daughter are only 18 months apart and is was a blessing raising them. He would look out for her, although growing up with a big brother and lot’s of boy cousins she was tough on her own. In the teen years she would give him fashion tips and advice about girls. The best part now is that they have each other to lean on when they have to deal with their crazy parents.