{"id":139,"date":"2012-05-20T21:02:16","date_gmt":"2012-05-21T03:02:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/fathertime\/?p=139"},"modified":"2012-05-20T21:03:08","modified_gmt":"2012-05-21T03:03:08","slug":"field-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/?p=139","title":{"rendered":"Field Day"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>Hannah is just days away from being a third grader, which is blowing my mind a little. She’s growing up fast, and that’s why I made a point to attend her school’s Field Day this year. I missed it last year and the year before, so this time around I blocked it out on my calendar weeks ago. However, I didn’t tell Hannah that I was coming–and, in fact, wasn’t entirely sure I could get away from work even though my calendar said I could. When I showed up, Hannah broke into a huge smile and gave me a hug that was more like a tackle. I can’t remember the last time I saw her looking so happy. Seeing her grin was the highlight of the month for me.<\/p>\n

In theory, the Hannah and her classmates were rotating through a series of stations, each with a different activity. However, by the time I arrived, most of the girls and a few of the boys had decided it would be a lot more fun to hang out near the speakers and dance along to the music that the PE teacher was blasting across the field. I have no rhythm and neither does Hannah’s mother, so I’m guessing she gets hers from some kind of mutant gene. She certainly had a blast dancing with her friends, and I appreciated the chance to see her hanging out with her friends.<\/p>\n

The dance party eventually turned into a dance competition with two kids, a second-grade girl and a third-grade boy, at the center of everyone’s attention. These two didn’t seem to me to be any more talented than any of the other kids, so perhaps it was their enthusiasm that vaulted them to the finals. There were a few dozen kids milling around as I watched from the sidelines. At one point there seemed to be some kind of altercation, and a few minutes later the boy finalist was hauled off the field by his mother. I saw that Hannah was crying, so I walked over to see what had happened.<\/p>\n

The good news was that there hadn’t been any punches thrown. The bad news was that Hannah found out the hard way that “sticks and stones may be break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is a bunch of malarkey. With tears streaming down her face, she told me that the boy dancer had told her that if she cheered for the other finalist, he would “beat her up.” I don’t know what led him to say that, but it was clear to me that it was an empty threat, especially with so many teachers and parents keeping watch. Hannah didn’t take it that way, however, and she was really shaken. She’s sweet that way.<\/p>\n

I got down on eye level with Hannah and said, “Hannah, there’s no way that boy is going to beat you up, not with him mom right over there. He’s full of hot air, and you don’t need to worry about anything he says. He’s just a big goober.” This line got a few laughs from Hannah in spite of her tears. I continued, “You ignore that goober, and focus on what great friends you have, friends who like you and want you to have a great time out here.” At this point a couple of Hannah’s friends put their arms around her and she started smiling. Pretty soon she was laughing and cutting up with her friends again.<\/p>\n

I’m so glad I was able to spend a little time with my daughter on Field Day, that I was there to see her smile and to help dry her tears.<\/p>\n

Image: “Synthetic Track & Field<\/a>,” Nathan Gibbs, Flickr (CC)<\/address>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hannah is just days away from being a third grader, which is blowing my mind a little. She’s growing up fast, and that’s why I made a point to attend her school’s Field Day this year. I missed it last year and the year before, so this time around I …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":140,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[65,37,5,9,28],"class_list":["post-139","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-bullies","tag-dancing","tag-growing-up","tag-quality-time","tag-school","column","twocol","has-thumbnail"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/139","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=139"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/139\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":144,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/139\/revisions\/144"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/140"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=139"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=139"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/derekbruff.org\/blogs\/disfordad\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=139"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}