It’s no secret that our daughter prefers my husband. No doubt at all. And why not? He’s a fantastic dad – I mean, really, truly great. In the beginning of this realization I was sad, pouting internally and externally about her crying for him, or just not wanting to be with me. Don’t get me wrong, she still does show affection toward me – we cuddle and read stories and I was the first person she said “I love you” to.
But I’m also the person she said to, deadpan, “Mama, I don’t like your face when I’m crying.”
Many people think I’m joking when I say this, but on Monday night/Tuesday morning she was up for about three hours. Fortunately, she was in a good mood, but was just awake. I took a bulk of this time, since CH had attended to her around midnight. I crawled into her bed, and she said, “No, mama, I want dada.” “Why?” I asked. “Because I love him so much.” Foolishly, it being about 2 a.m., asked, “don’t you love me?” Without missing a beat, she replied, “Only a little bit.”
Well, you get what you ask for.
This morning at drop-off, she gave me a little hug. “Where’s my big squeeze?” I asked. “I’m only giving you a little squeeze because I only love you a little bit” she answered.
These statements drive my husband batty. “Be nice to mama” is a common phrase in our house. I honestly don’t know what to do, and generally keep fairly neutral, except for when she’s saying something mean as a form of acting out. I mean, the girl can express her feelings, right? And how many of you love your parents equally? You might love them for different reasons, but don’t you have a favorite? “It will change,” say friends. “She’ll switch back and forth,” they say. I don’t know that. She might, sure, but she might not. For now, I take it as a lesson of something – how one person, created from love, who literally alters your body forever – can also change your heart.