What seemed like forever, my daughter favored her daddy over me. Not necessarily at home, I did the bathing, reading, entertaining, but anywhere outside of the home, in public, she only wanted him. He relished in her need to be held by him and those around us continually commented how she was such a “Daddy’s Girl.” I would smile and nod. What the hell?? I held this baby in my womb for 40 week, delivered her into this world, nursed her for three months, daily met her each and every waking need…and she’s a Daddy’s Girl? How can that be? What about our eternal mother-daughter bond? I felt so picked over.
Ahh, how the tide changes. Something happened after she turned two when suddenly, Daddy was (as he puts it) chopped liver. She wanted me to hold her (every waking moment), she wanted me to play play-dough and not daddy, she wanted me to rock her at night and she wanted me to get her whatever it was high up on the shelf that she couldn’t reach. Basically she wanted me to do everything, get everything WITH HER.
Wow. This is exhausting. There I was back in the days when I poured my OJ with one hand because I had a nursing newborn in the other. Now I was stirring the pot with one while holding a toddler with the other. Who, by the way, has the nerve to complain about the comfort (or lack thereof) of her mother’s hip. I have boney hips – get used to it!
Don’t get me wrong, I love being the parent of the day, but boy it can be tiring. Whatever happened to her being a Daddy’s Girl??
Thankfully, our life has resumed balance. She’s till a Daddy’s Girl, and now a Mommy’s Girl, too. I still get to hold her (a lot), bather her, and read to her. We have delightful conversations these days. But she is back to wanting her daddy to rock her at night. I do miss those evenings when I would rock her, but I also enjoy getting that time back for myself. While the favorite parent is rocking our favorite kid, I’m having my favorite end of the day ritual – a steaming hot bath.
Is it just me? Being the favorite parent is wonderful while it lasts. But when those 15 minutes of fame are over I can’t see any reason to be sad about it. She’s happy, he’s happy and most importanly of all, Mommy’s happy.