Recently my oldest daughter experienced the thing that every young girl goes through when her body begins to change into a women. I bring this up not to embarrass my daughter in any way, but to explain from daddy's point of view.
After I found out, my heart hurt. It was a similar hurt I felt when she had to get glasses. I hurt for her. I didn't want her to feel different, awkward or self conscious about a change that she has no control over.
Recently I drove by the dance studio where she took her first dance lessons. She was barely in kindergarten and so little. I remember thinking how I couldn't wait to watch her experience the joys of childhood. Opening presents on Christmas morning. Riding her bike with no training wheels, or getting excited over the tooth fairy. I wanted my daughter to have a wonderful happy childhood. And stay my little girl forever.
And now it's over. Or at least so her body says. She's in the sixth grade now and I suppose it's time to hang up the Tutu's and bury the idea that she still believes in Santa in order to make room for mood swings and make-up.
When I told my DW that I hated this for her. That I thought it sucked. That it was depressing. It was quickly explained to me that I didn't get to say that. As if I couldn't have a feeling about the subject because I'll never experience it first hand. But the truth of the matter is it's harder for us Dads. My wife explained to me that she wanted this to be a bonding moment between the two of them, and to an extent it is. But let's face it, there is no, let's eat chocolate together moment for Daddies at this time. There is no, if you have questions I'm here for you moment. There's no, I know how you feel moment for dad.
In fact my daughter said Don't tell Dad.
I get it. I get her embarrassment and not wanting me to know, I do. But it doesn't make it any easier for ol' Dad.