Daddy’s Got a Girlfriend
Making the Introduction to the Young Lady of the House
By Bill Zito
“Why were you kissing her!?!??”
It was a G-rated kiss, but I’ll admit it, I got reckless. I wasn’t careful enough and I didn’t see my daughter C.J. looking out the living room window watching as I said goodbye to Erin.
“You were kissing her!!!”
My daughter had never yelled at me so I admit I was a bit taken aback when the shrieking question pierced an otherwise serene Sunday afternoon. It was a shame to some extent. Erin and I had worked hard to keep the nature of our association under wraps, particularly from C.J. We were quiet, covert, and even somewhat clandestine at times, and I’m pretty sure we could have remained that way for quite awhile.
In the end, after months of peeking around doorways, I was the one who blew it, and I’m really glad I did.
A little history
In the months then years following the sudden death of her mother, my daughter would drag me into the TV room begging me to watch a selection from her growing library of widowed dad movies. Sitting through “Dan in Real Life,” “Love, Actually,” ”Jersey Girl,” and of course “Sleepless in Seattle,” I saw what I thought was an obvious pattern of “Let’s Get Dad a Date” themes.
C.J. was always rooting for Steve Carell, Ben Affleck, or Tom Hanks to get together with a wonderful woman and walk off hand in hand with her (with the precocious child in tow, of course.) Though monotonous at times, it did offer me a small sense of comfort that looking into the foreseeable future, there might be one domestic drama I may not have to deal with.
But naturally, that’s just Hollywood.
IS SHE YOUR GIRLFRIEND?
“Well, honey…I guess in a word…um...kinda…sort of. “
At that point I was ignoring my own contempt for the label “girlfriend.” You hit your forties and finding comfortable relationship terminology isn’t easy. I guess I’d prefer to be just a tad older so using “companion” or “lady-friend” would be enough to quell the critics.
I took from C.J. exactly what I had coming to me. There certainly was a sense of betrayal, and I had to own up to my errors in judgment. I also learned that parenting on any level is sometimes trial and error, and admitting you’ve made a mistake isn’t the same as surrendering authority.
So, C.J. and I talked, and it developed into a series of clever dialogues, each one better than the last. I admit, it was a bit contentious at times. I’m a former police officer so sometimes these question and answer sessions could take on the flavor of an interrogation session if left to their own course. Interestingly it was my daughter who took on the verbal strategy of “Bad Cop, Bad Cop.” Apparently she hadn’t read the instruction book and I was subjected to demands of, “Why didn’t you tell me,” “How long has it been this way,” and most critically, “What about my mom?”
It wasn’t easy in the beginning. C.J. was five, sharp for her age but still five, when her mom died. I was forty-two going on ten. I had been married to an amazing woman who managed to take care of just about everything at home and at her job and still allow me the freedom to occasionally behave like a juvenile delinquent when the mood struck me. That all came to an abrupt halt when we lost C.J’s mom.
Over time, with the help from family and friends, I was able to get back to work and find a new routine. Eventually, I even managed to sneak out for a few social evenings without my daughter. I often called them “dinners,” and CJ, home with the sitter, grew ever suspicious. I didn’t always explain to her that I was going on dates. I wasn’t sure if she was ready for that . . . . I wasn’t sure if I was ready. At that time I figured omission to be the better part of valor to best maintain harmony at home. I had only been out on a couple of dates before I started dating Erin, and prior to that, I didn’t see any reason to bring anyone home for CJ’s approval.
Breaking bread and breaking the ice
When the time came, I didn’t have to hastily introduce my girlfriend to my then 7-year-old daughter; they already knew each other. Erin and I worked in the same office, and she was among the most helpful of workplace supporters to emerge after my wife died. Erin would visit with us, help with childcare when I was in a jam, and take C.J. shopping when she needed another gal’s opinion. The mood was always light, and it soon became almost a daily occurrence for C.J. to ask, “When is Erin coming over again?” But at that time, she really was simply the friend and not “the girlfriend.”
When we were all together, a lot of our time was spent in the kitchen. The three of us would often have dinner; it became a regular occurrence. Erin would help CJ with her homework, and I would cook. It was nice to set another place at the table.
As our relationship grew stronger, Erin became the exception to the rule. C.J. liked having her around and wasn’t afraid she would take her mom’s place. However, the reclassification from friend to girlfriend still required quite a bit of discussion and even some negotiation.
We took these issues one by one, over time, and while dealing with C.J.’s feelings and worries I also introduced the idea that it wasn’t always easy for me or Erin either. Much like the difficulties trying to establish one’s place in an already up and running organization, standing in the shadow of a treasured wife and mother offers its own obstacles.
A practical solution…THE TRUTH
I resisted the temptation to try and “sell” the new relationship as I would some lengthy car trip or other potentially unpleasant experience.
Instead, I told my daughter story after story about her mom, stories of us together, before and after she was born. Those endless tales, complemented by a wealth of home video helped solidify her image of us as a family even in her mom’s absence. The first time I heard C.J. proudly relating one of those very same stories to Erin, I knew I had finally done something right.
After the relationship was out in the open, it made no sense for me to try and hide things from my daughter. When concerns about Erin’s role in my life came up, C.J. and I discussed them. It took quite a bit of reassuring, but I just explained to C.J. that having Erin around didn’t make her mom any less her mom, and it certainly didn’t mean that our father-daughter relationship would change.
When C.J. finally realized that having Erin around was no longer a threat, it made things a lot easier for the adults to have an evening out without protest or guilt, though I still find myself looking up at the living room window as I walk in the door.
Bill Zito lives north of New York City in a rural enough setting to have bear, deer and wild turkey as frequent visitors in his front yard. A former Police Officer, he spent the last decade as a Producer, Editor and Writer for national and local news organizations on both U.S. coasts. He’s held a number of official titles, Dad, being the most significant and rewarding of them all.
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