Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Second Fiddle and Feeling Fine

My husband is my son’s favorite parent. Sometimes I feel jealous of this fact.

Other times it makes me sad -- like when I try to comfort The Mayor and he screams, “NOOOOOOOOO, WANT DADDY, DADDY, DADDY.”

Most of the time I think it is reasonably fair (in the universal justice realm) that K is his favorite.

After all, I was pregnant again when The Mayor was 5 months old and K had to do more than his share for The Mayor so that I could be freed up to generally moan, complain and loll about eating bon bons while wearing high heeled slippers with feather accents.

(Okay – anyone that’s ever been pregnant knows I’m lying about the high heels part.)

Even if I hadn’t become pregnant again so soon, I still think
The Mayor would have developed his primary bond with K.

K is just so much more capable in the newborn through toddler realm.

Since the beginning, K has been able to think up interactive games (on the FLY) that entertained and engaged The Mayor regardless of his age.

I have to admit that when it came to thinking up games to play with a 4 month old, I was at a total loss.

Who knew that watching balls roll irregularly on our oh-so-uneven wood floors and laughing and laughing was the perfect thing to do on a Sunday afternoon?

K also was able to have lengthy, in-depth conversations with The Mayor right from the start.

From the moment The Mayor was born everyone kept telling us that we had to talk to him.

HURRY, TALK TO HIM!!

It was presented in such a way that we felt like we would be taken away and locked up permanently if we did not keep up an incessant stream of banter with The Mayor during his every waking, earliest moments.

Though I am the extroverted member of this team, I was at a total loss.

I would look down at The Mayor and think, “so…uh… what do you want to talk about?”

K, on the other hand, would blather on and on about nuclear proliferation, the price per therm of energy and the historical importance of the post-civil war redemption era.

What child could resist love charms such as these?

These days, K and I put each child to bed on alternate nights.


Every time it is my night to read and sing with The Mayor he says, “No. Daddy read.”

K literally has to sneak away with Rooster Girl and her bottle.

Last night it was my turn to read and sing to The Mayor.

We flopped down on our backs to read books in the bed and after four or five (indulgence!) we turned off the light to sing songs before I transferred him to his crib.

The Mayor turned and curled his body towards me and I turned and curled my body towards him.

He gave me kiss after kiss and then held my face in his hands while I sang him 45 more songs than usual.

(How could I stop at 3 with my face in those little hands?)

When I put him in his crib he stood back up and said, “Mommy, I want to hold you,” so I stood at the railing of his crib and hugged him for a long time.

Moments like this that make it O.K. that Kevin is his favorite.

They re-assure me that The Mayor loves me too.

4 comments:

Kevin Charnas said...

my eyes are damp and i'm melting...

Sayre said...

I'm not the favorite parent either. I'm the one that makes him do homework, eat his vegetables, take a bath, and says "no".

Daddy plays with him, takes him to the beach, the park, the zoo, fishing, and visiting friends and parents.

But guess who's name is called out in the middle of the night when the monsters emerge from under the bed? Or who gets vomited on but holds him anyway. And who gets to cuddle first thing in the morning when daddy's already gone off to work?

Yup - Moms are loved too. It's not always as obvious (adoration is tough to hide), but it's just as strong.

I loved this, Jessica. You have a whole following in my family now because you express this mommy/daddy/family thing so well.

Matt Bell said...

I truly am a bad parent. Why? Because, though seemingly I am angry at them, when the kids fight with each other for my cuddles / book reading skills / cooking lessons etc I secret love it. "MY Daddy (thwack)" "No, MMMMMY Daddy (whallop)" I suppose that makes me needy, but wanted.

sweatpantsmom said...

What a great Mother's Day story!

My youngest, 7, is a die-hard Daddy's Girl. I brought this up the other day and she said to me, "Oh, I'm a Mommy's Girl, too! Sort of. Kind of. Sometimes."

*sigh*