Coach Daddy
Nikki is learning to distinguish between COACH and DADDY this season as D is an assistant coach on her t-ball team. This is a tough lesson for her as she thinks because he is her Daddy, she should get special treatment from him. As in: She should get to play the position she wants and she should never have to wait for her “turn” at bat. She doesn’t understand why he’s treating her the same as ALL OF THE OTHER GIRLS. Come on! What’s the point in having your Dad coach if he doesn’t let you play where you want?
I don’t remember that struggle as a kid when my Dad coached my soccer teams. Probably because I don’t remember the first few years of soccer, which would have been when I tried to confuse the two roles. And even if I could remember, I’m fairly certain I didn’t abuse the position of “Coach’s Daughter” as often as my own daughter does. She tries to manipulate D every chance she can get. And she KNOWS he doesn’t want to get onto her in front of the team, so she totally doesn’t play fair at ALL. And while she is learning (slowly) that Coach won’t let her play where she wants like Daddy might, she still uses cuteness against him every chance she gets. Which is a whole new evil in and of itself. She can be quite adorable you know. Especially when she’s trying to be tough.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…THE TEEN YEARS WILL KILL US ALL.
I think my Mom had the same problem with me, because she always made me call her “Mrs G” at girl scout meetings like everyone else. I learned quickly that she wasn’t going to give me special treatment. Later in life my friend thought that was weird, but I think it was a good thing. Good luck with Nikki Z! Girls are so difficult, sometimes!
My mom was a girl scout leader, too (I was never in sports, so this is my only point of comparison). She didn’t make me address her as Mrs. M, but she bent over backwards to make sure she didn’t play favorites with me (even though I think some of the kids thought she did — because they’re kids, I guess). I was a high-achiever, the kind who almost always knew the answer, often the only one with her hand raised. So I may have been called on a little more often, but not because I was the leader’s daughter.
This is a good lesson for Nikki to learn. Best of luck to Donnie trying to handle it. You’ve probably already explained the concept of fairness to her, that were she to get her way all the time because Donnie is an assistant coach, that wouldn’t be fair. Kids seem to have an innate sense of fairness anyway. Would she like it if all the other kids thought she was getting special treatment? How would the other kids feel? I hesitate to use the word “hate,” but would she want the other kids resenting her? Would she want to lose friends because they thought she was getting special treatment, and it’s not fair? Or to spin it another way, would she want the other parents to be “mad at” Donnie because he gave Nikki special treatment? All rhetorical questions, but ones you could use (if you haven’t already).
My dad was an assistant little league coach for my brothers and they didn’t get special treatment, either. But the upside was that they had that shared activity with him, and because of their mutual love of baseball, the boys probably became better baseball players than if dad hadn’t helped.
Nikki seems to already have a lot of skill and natural ability. But sharing the sport with her dad can only help her in the long run. Go, Nikki!
At least her Dad teaches T-ball – my Dad would watch from the side lines if me or my brother ever played sports – then again he came to the dress rehearsal of at least one of my drama performances because he couldn’t make the full rehearsal – extra gold stars for him
Oh my gosh I hope you are still blogging when she hits pre-teen/teenager. I really didn’t expect to read this yet because she is so loving towards her baby brother. I would have thought she would have fought territory at home first.
On the other hand; how can Daddy Coach resist her? I mean really, she has the cutest smile and accent.
Truly, terrifying