Have I told you yet that we’re going through a rough week? Yeah, we’re going through a rough week.
There are just SO. MANY. TEARS.
I’m beginning to hear a pretty convincing fake wail/cry in there too. The kid has quite a thespian streak in him. Gee, I don’t know WHERE he gets that! (Aka… from both parents). I know he’s not feeling good, but oh, the wailing. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. It cuts right through me. He has even been at daycare yesterday and today and still, my ears are ringing with the sound. Daycare is a blessing for us both, in so many ways.
It’s not all the time, though.
This morning when he woke up, I went in and rubbed his back for a few minutes while he woke up slowly. He sleepily rolled over and smiled and me and we chatted and I ran my fingers through his hair and he reached for me and buried his face in my shoulder while we opened the windows and talked about the cars going by and the statue in the neighbors garden. We read books. He’s already smart enough to pick the long ones when I say, “Ok, let’s read 2 books”.
The thing that set him off into whiny, sniffly, crocodile tear mode today was Daddy. The mere suggestion of him. I said, “Do you want to wake up Daddy?”. “Noooooooooo. ::Sniff, sniff, WAIL:: NO DADDY. Nooooooooo! NO DADDY!”. Ok, ok, I said, we’ll go downstairs and get some milk and feed the dog first.
When Daddy came downstairs to help us get Owen’s food packed for daycare, Owen screamed and cried and pushed him away. Last night, too, he didn’t even want Daddy in the room while we were getting ready for bed.
I’d be lying if I said this was the first time this has happened. Remember this post? Yeah. Generally the Anti-Daddy Campaign is on a very small scale. Owen chooses me to read him books instead of Daddy. He chooses my lap instead of Daddy’s. Not a big deal.
But today it reached a crescendo. A new high. Or low, depending on who you’re talking about.
The funny thing is that Benjamin is home with Owen on Fridays while I go to the office. That’s a full day of uninterrupted Daddy time, and it’s never been a problem. When I am out of the house entirely, I think it goes away. But man, when I am there, it has become a battle of epic proportions.
As with everything else, I know this is a phase. This too shall pass. Hey, he could switch on us tomorrow and be anti-Mommy. Or maybe next week when I have to go away for 5 days (5 DAYS! TO PARIS!). Only time will tell.
In the meantime, I would like to give Daddy a bandaid for his heart. Because as of this morning, I think the Anti-Daddy Campaign is beginning to get to him.