And so it begins....

I had this moment at the dinner table last night.  Please watch this clip, so that you fully understand what I am talking about.  Particularly the part about the breakfast table and the pjs.

I have made no secret about how emotional I get when I talk about my girls.  I have also made no secret about how I will probably embarrass them their entire lives, due to the fact that I will cry at ever major life moment.  The worst event will be the moment I am walking them down the isle to be married.  This has to be a lonely feeling.  A hole in your heart that will never be filled.  I normally go to Dad for advice on all things, but since he had two boys, he doesn't know what this fear/feeling is like.  Despite how much you try and empathize with someone on this, if you haven't had to give away a daughter, you just can't understand.

You love all your kids equally, but you love all your kids differently.   I am truly blessed to have four kids, and even more blessed to have four baby girls.  They will always be my baby girls, no matter how old they get.  Reagan is my first.  She is also my BFF.  If Reagan had a choice to do anything in the world with one person, she would choose me.  I see a lot of our relationship in the same relationship I have with my father. Naturally growing up Dad and I did more things together than he and Patrick did.  Dad was always there for Patrick and included himself everywhere Patrick would let him, but Patrick didn't get into sports, hobbies, etc. like Dad and I did.  Reagan and I are just like that.  She loves her Daddy more than anything, and I am very honored to be her (all of their) Daddy.

The other day I had my first proud papa moment when Reagan tested into the gifted program at her school for reading and math.  I am told this is a really big deal.  That moment made me think of this clip:

So last night we are at dinner, and Reagan leans over to whisper in my ear that she needs to talk to me.  Not giving it too much thought, I say
Boomer: sure babe, whats up?
Reagan: Daddy,  I know you're not going to like this....but...... one boy at school, I am friends with. (then quickly following with) Its okay, I love you more.
Boomer: Blank stare, mouth open  (crickets chirping)

Moments like this hit me like a ton of bricks.  I know, she is only 6, I get it.  The fact that she even brought this up is a heavy reminder of a the thing all parents hate,  a reminder that their little kid is growing up.  I have to handle this the right way too, Brooke always reminds me of this.  Every time Reagan brings up anything having to do with boys, I initially want to punch my fist through a wall. Or his face, I don't care if he is six, this is my Reagan we are talking about.  Brooke always looks at me with that "look" too.  A look of part satisfaction about knowing how bad this irks me, part sadness of knowing how bad this irks me, and part support (it can be three parts, right?) for me because she knows how much this hurts me.  It is at this point that Brooke reminds that I want her to feel comfortable enough to be able to talk to me about boys.  I guess that is true, maybe.  The fact is you die a little each time this happens.  Ultimately, you do want to be the good father, keep her off the pole, etc.  I have to teach her that there are dangerous boys out there and there are honorable ones.  Most importantly, I need to teach her how to tell the difference.  The biggest way she is going to learn that is in the way I treat her, her sisters, and her mother. Sometimes the most difficult conversations to have are the most important ones to have.  Often, those conversations require me to just shut up and listen.  Let her talk.  Even if I want to tell her to stay away from yucky boys.  She has to know that I love and support her, no matter what.

In the end, I guess I do want her to feel secure enough in our relationship to come talk to me about boys.  I just don't want those boys to have that same sense of security when they are around me.