I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am to once more return to my guest post series today, after a very long hiatus! (If you are keen to be a guest writer on my blog, please check out my guidelines for guest posts by scrolling to the bottom of my About page and share your ideas with me)
For over two years now, I’ve been blessed to connect with other stay-at-home dads. Thanks to a community of fathers I connected with called The Ordinary Dad (TOD).
One of them is Damien, a somewhat “unorthodox” dad, but a totally delightful member of TOD since Feb 2024.
Today, I’m honoured to have him as my guest writer here to share with us the big lesson he learned recently about not giving up the little things.
Over to you, Damien! (For info about my guest, check out his details at the end of this post)
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It is easy for us as parents to brush aside the small mishaps our little ones bring to us.
A little bump? Aww. Pat on the head and off you go.
It’s easy, even essential, to brush aside these little “inconveniences”. Especially if, like me, you’re also a stay-home, full-on home schooling dad, who must herd a squad of three rambunctious offsprings everywhere. Every. Single. Day.
Sometimes, it is easier just to tell my kids to fall in line and get a move on. Both my wife and I agree we can’t stop for every little boo boo that happens to them.
If we did, when will we adults ever find the time to sort out the urgent and important stuff, right?
A Mirror, A Meltdown, and a Moment
Recently on a family outing to an indoor playground in a shopping mall, my eldest girl, nine, accidentally spilled contents out of her bag.
Unfortunately for her, one of them — her mermaid mirror — accidentally slipped right into the gap between the playhouse and wall. Beyond the reach of everyone!
Now here’s the thing from an adult’s point of view.
It’s a mirror that couldn’t have cost more than three dollars. It wasn’t a birthday gift. It wasn’t one of the items she paid with her own money. The mirror was just a random gift from me.
Nonetheless, she was distraught.
And so she cried.
Her cousins and younger brothers comforted her. Her mum brushed it off and told her it is what it is. The message was crystal clear: move on my dear; it isn’t worth fussing about.
When A Gift Becomes A Treasure
My daughter was downcast for the rest of the day.
At night, she spoke about that mirror, how she loved it and wanted it back.
The next day, we got a replacement at another shop. Not quite the same thing. Just a sparkly, glittery pocket mirror. Most definitely very pretty, but not the same.
When it was presented to her, she seem appeased.
Over the weekend, we met up with the cousins again. They presented her with a battery-powered mirror that lit up when turned on. Imagine that! Two beautiful mirrors in two days. More than what she deserved or needed, quipped her mum.
Yet that night, my little daughter said to me she still missed and wanted back the original mirror. She reminded me where we got it before, and asked if we could return to that store to buy another. I explained that these items were seasonal, and it’s been a while since we first got it. Most unlikely now that there would be one of the exact design left for us to buy.
On hearing that, she mumbled something about letting her know beforehand when we will return to the playground. Then she could prepare a way to fish out her old mirror from the gap it fell into.
That’s when it dawned on me.
Should Parents Encourage Or Extinguish Hope?
Why were we, her mom and dad, in a hurry to settle this little matter of the mermaid mirror? To have our little girl move on with the rest of her life? To forget about the mirror altogether, even though it’s clear this toy was akin to a pirate’s treasure for her?
Why aren’t we harnessing this teachable moment, this learning opportunity, to help her become a more determined and resourceful person?
And so, this time I decided not to dismiss her hope. Instead, this time, I asked her a simple question: If we return tomorrow, how would you get it out?
She lit up.
We brainstormed together. Some ideas were borderline genius. Others downright absurd. Along the way, my little one learned about maintenance crews, mall security, and creative thinking.
Most importantly, she realised there was still a chance to retrieve her treasure.
The Rescue Mission Begins!
So we returned to the mall the next day, quietly and without fanfare. We sought the mall crew’s help, and were grateful the crew obliged. They tried with sticks and cleaning gear, and we looked on eagerly with hope.
Sadly, they failed. My daughter could see the mirror, just out of reach. So close yet so far. She was crushed.
The crew left with an apology. She and her brother went and tried on their own. And then…
…Aha!
Papa, remember that fruit picker we had? I think if we get that we can reach my mirror! Maybe the hardware shop nearby has one?
Bingo! I thought to myself. My girl’s troubleshooting all by herself!
Why We Fight For The Little Things
We debated about the cost of getting a fruit picker versus the cost of a replacement mirror. We agreed that if the picker cost more than her mirror, we would give up and go to other stores to buy a new mirror with the same design instead.
Lo and behold, a plastic picker from a nearby store proved cheaper! Grasping it tightly in hand, we sprung into action. (Throughout all this, my dear wife, her mummy, was chilling out at a nearby bookshop unsuspecting)
Together, my daughter, her brothers, and I return to the scene. Using the picker, we pushed, pulled, and squeezed. We were breaking into quite a sweat!
Just then, a tiny gap an adult eye wouldn’t have caught on most days, suddenly revealed itself. We used the gap, reached in, and — pop — out came the mirror.
Victory!
Cheers erupted. High fives flew. We took “wefies” (see pictures above). My kids felt like heroes. And, indeed, they were.
My daughter tenderly cleaned her long-lost mirror, then off we went to celebrate with ice cream. And of course she found and regaled her mum with the story of her wit and heroism.
But you know who really got schooled that day? Me.
I saw the power of perseverance in a little girl who refused to forget what mattered to her. I saw her siblings rally around her to comfort and help. And I saw all of them try, fail, try again, and finally succeed.
That day, I made a quiet vow to myself: I won’t be so quick to brush off the “little things” anymore. And I won’t teach my kids to either.
Because here’s the truth: If we only teach our children to let go quickly, we may also be teaching them to give up too easily. Not every battle needs to be fought of course. But some battles, even small ones, might be worth it for just such a moment as this one proved to be.
Someday, my kids will face bigger challenges — harder losses, steeper obstacles. But maybe they’ll remember this little adventure. The day they fought for something they loved. The day they learned they could.
And maybe, just maybe, that three dollar mirror was worth far more than we thought.
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About My Guest
My guest writer Damien Yee, 48, is a “man bun-wearing dadpreuner” that started his fathering journey so late he feels compelled to spend twice the time to just be a dad! Born and raised in Singapore but now based in Malaysia, Damien and his wife do it all! They home birth, home school, home care, and are ever present for each of their three wonderful kids, daily watching them grow in amazing ways.
You can find Damien on LinkedIn.
