Daddypalooza Love Fest.
As far as my kids are concerned, it’s all about me. If we go to the movies, they fight over who gets to sit in my lap. If we go out to dinner, they fight over who gets to sit next to me. At night, after they take a bath, they fight over which of them I am going to put to bed. It’s almost as if my husband doesn’t exist – well, okay, it’s not quite that bad. Perhaps a better analogy would be that it’s almost as if my husband is a scoop of vanilla in a house full of chocolate lovers; acceptable as a last resort, but certainly not the first choice.
Of course, I feel bad for my husband. I know it hurts his feelings that the kids never fight over him, and I know how much he hates being low man on the totem pole; placing after me, after the nanny, probably even after the dog. I try to protect him as much as I can – I don’t tell him that the kids cry if I have to go out and he’s going to stay home with them. And I certainly don’t tell him that my daughter has secretly told me that she loves me THIS much (arms spread open wide), but that she only loves daddy this much (hands spread about a foot apart). But, then again, if I’m being totally honest here, I will admit that there is a teeny, tiny part of me that kind of likes it. Well, maybe the part is a little bit bigger than teeny tiny. It might be more like, just, I don’t know…small. Okay, fine. It’s bigger than small. It’s big. There is a very, very big part of me that likes the fact that my children prefer me over my husband. Are you happy now?
Cough, cough. Anyway, the problem is, I’ve noticed over the last several weeks that I’ve been losing some ground in the polls, and that the mommy/daddy gap is starting to narrow. For example, when my husband walks in the door, the kids actually jump up from whatever they’re doing and run to greet him, whereas before, they totally ignored him. And last night, my husband asked my son if he wanted to go see a college baseball game, just the two of them, and my son said yes, without any hesitation. Before, he would have at least asked if mommy could go, too, and he might have even stayed home if it meant leaving me. At the very least, he would have needed me to coax him into going without me.