My son doesn’t discriminate, at least not yet. We’ve always shared bed, bath and extra curricular activity duties – that is, aside from the times we all crawled into his twin bed together to read Harry Potter. For the longest time, his decisions were based on a pattern that was shared between his dad and I. It was refreshing and it was easy.
My daughter though…
My daughter feeds 100% into what they say the second child is like. She is the opposite of her older brother. She’s unpredictable and I don’t know how she does it, maybe it’s that 6th sense, but I swear she can sniff me out in a room full of people. She is the ultimate cling-factor. Attached. Stuck.
For instance, her dad sits down with a plate of food? She’s good. But when mom sits down, she b-lines over, literally panting, begging and squishing her little fingers to her palms asking for more. Please, mom I know I just ate but I’d like more.
She’s playing intently all by herself, unquestionably all morning, yet the second I step out of the room and she perhaps hears a floor board crack. Nope. It’s over. Out comes the cries of a nine-month old. I imagine racing through her head, Maaahhhhmmm where’d you go?!
Mom has to pee? Quietly close the door and enjoy 60 seconds of silence. But there are those little fingers scratching away at the tile under the door as if she’ll honestly make her way through. I open the door and get a stare down followed by a smile. Oh goodie, I thought you were gone forever but thankfully, you’re just right here.
Drop her off at daycare? Stop in and say hi at daycare? Try again.
Bedtime? Nope. Either I do it or I sit quietly in a room away from her while I hear her fight being put to sleep. Ten minutes… 30 minutes… 45 minutes… Where is my mom, she rocks this chair back and forth way better than you do!
At a family function? Only expect to enjoy any type of adult conversation (without baby girl at your ankles on glued to your hip) as long as you do not make eye contact with the little one across the room, because once you do… Mom! Mom! I’m right here! I’m coming mom! as she claps, bouncing up and down practically right out of great-grandma’s arms.
As fortunate as I am to have a schedule that allows me to spend so much time together, there’s a part of me that feels a sense of frustration, tension, exhaustion and even sometimes sadness when she’s constantly picking, choosing, wanting me over my very hands-on and present husband. Somedays, I find myself spending so much time peeling her off my ankles just to set her across the room so I can catch a breath as I walk to the other side of the room alone. Just to sit down and do it all over again. When she’s napping peacefully in her crib with her little bum up in the air, I’ll sit on the floor among the dollies, rattles and teething rings and think to myself… It’s just a phase. It’s the separation anxiety period. This too shall pass. But what happens when it does pass?
What happens when she chooses her toys over me? Her best friend with the quirky style that listens to music too loud over me? When she chooses to drive around and take in the open road over me just because she can? What happens when she chooses a boyfriend? Or chooses to simply be alone – over me?
I stop myself and shutter at the honest thought of one day she will start letting go and the space between us will be much more apparent and less physical. That is when I’ll have my ankles back, my food back and my sleep back. My trips to the bathroom will be uninterrupted and I’ll wonder where she went. I’ll wonder why she isn’t looking for me anymore in that room full of people?
In this moment, I’ll hold on tight and remember she’s learning to express big (and kind of obsessive) feelings for her mama. Her love and admiration that’s so big and happening right now – I can’t let myself lose sight of that.
