Learning Together

I am listening to an audiobook called The Dichotomy of Leadership by Jocko Willink and Leif Babin. The book’s examples are drawn from war and the corporate world, and its authors are highly-decorated veterans who served as SEALS in the US Navy.

The thesis of the book is that true leadership requires balance.

While the book’s concrete details do not involve children, I have thought more about parenting while reading this book than any other part of my life. The gist of the book is that leadership is simple but hard and requires constant adjustment. I find it hard to balance the rigor of discipline with the flexibility required of a good father. Particularly hard is the dichotomy of owning responsibility and empowering those I lead.

This is something to pray about.

I got a call from the school nurse this morning. My daughter said her stomach was hurting. She didn’t have a fever, which was good, but the nurse wanted directions from me.

I told the nurse the truth.

For a couple of months, my daughter has complained about tummy trouble.

Sometimes, this trouble means she’s hungry. Sometimes, it means she’s too full. Occasionally, it means she needs to use the bathroom. Other times, she’s simply nervous.

I knew she was okay. I ask the nurse for guidance in helping my daughter understand these crucial distinctions.

My daughter stayed at school and did well the rest of the day. We talked bout upset stomachs on the way home. We’ll see if we can build these distinctions into her daily vocabulary.

Last week, I started listening to a podcast called “Jesus Is Better” with my daughter. The podcasts are short and feature the host recounting Bible stories and drawing life applications from them. All the episodes we listened to concerned Moses, and we built a four-day streak.

With Sunday and a back-to-school week, however, we lost momentum. I had a moment this afternoon to play it but failed to remember to do it. I also didn’t take the initiative to play the podcast at night.

I’m making a commitment to listen to the podcast with my daughter on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays when we get home from school.

Jesus IS better, and I can show my daughter that by making this devotional part of our routine.

Tonight, my daughter attended her first 4-H meeting. My wife was a member when she was young, and my father-in-law was a member in elementary school. This group is a family affair.

My daughter saw her cousins, watched a video about firearm safety, and began the process of meeting newer, older children. When the meeting was over, she wanted to know if she could go again.

If my daughter buys into the 4-H project, she’ll be showing cows in a year or two. It’s certainly not something I had available when I was my daughter’s age. I’m glad she’ll have a chance to see if it’s for her.

For the first time all school year, my daughter talked about having a classmate over for a “play date.” Of course, my daughter decided the playdate should be at our house. Neither my wife nor I had heard about this potential play date before today.

How would her friend get to our house, my daughter wondered? A map. So she drew one.

Something tells me we’re going to need to provide an address.

My daughter wanted to ring in the new year by baking.

She had two choices.

1. She could use a mix and put the ingredients together herself.
2. She could use a recipe but get help from my wife.

She chose #1. The result was some tasty chocolate chip muffins.

We hosted my in-laws tonight, and it was a delight to see my daughter show off her wares to her grandparents.

It was an excellent way to start the year.

My daughter and I went to a local playground yesterday. We showed up in time to see an eight-year-old girl in the middle of a breakdown on top of a piece of playground equipment. Her mother couldn’t get her down, and the girl was growing more hysterical with every passing minute. Finally, the father showed up, and his rhetoric was not unlike that of a hostage negotiator. The girl was too scared to move or do anything coherently and was crying for at least fifteen consecutive minutes as the father grew more and more frustrated at what was turning into a public spectacle.

“Why is that girl crying?” my daughter asked. I tried to explain.

After the girl made it down safely and the family had left, I could tell the incident had affected my daughter. I could tell that it had affected the other parents at the park. A husband and wife evaluated the father’s reaction to the daughter and were frankly more generous to him than I would have been. I wondered what I would do if placed in a similar situation. My daughter has a penchant for fits, and when she has them, she’s irrational. How would I respond?

My daughter took the hint too. At the end of her afternoon cartoon break, she pressed the DVD controller’s wrong button and restarted the program she was watching. Her countenance fell, and a tantrum seemed imminent. Quickly, I prepared a counterattack.

I stopped and asked her, “What did you think about that girl’s fit at the playground today? Who are you acting like right now?”

She could have responded, “You’re acting like the dad!” She didn’t, however, and promptly calmed down.

Today, my daughter and I went to the biggest local library. We found her some books and then went and looked for books for my wife and me.

My daughter was so intent on reading her book that she walked around the stacks with her nose in the book’s spine.

I was partly annoyed. My daughter ran into a bookshelf and narrowly avoided hitting another library patron.

Still, I was partly impressed. My daughter couldn’t wait to read. That made me smile.