Bittersweet

Something happened this evening that has never happened before. At least not that I can remember. At least not since I started writing Urf! I was sitting on the deck, sipping a cocktail and talking with Kristy while the kids played nearby on the swingset (I know, you’re thinking of Norman Rockwell). And then something happened, a brother hit S with a ball or shoved her or she fell off a swing or something. I’m not real sure as I was trying to get that last ice cube that always hangs on to the bottom of the glass to come out (that Rockwell image still there?) and she started crying and came to us on the deck. But she didn’t ask for her mother as usual. She wanted me. She called out for her Daddy. The mother and child bond is the strongest and I attribute that to breastfeeding, but the whole father breastfeeding experiment went horribly wrong a long time ago. So S climbed up on my lap and all I wanted to do was hold her there, stroke her hair and turn to Kristy to say, “HA HA! She wants me! I win this time!” But I didn’t say that, I just comforted.

It’s always upsetting when your child gets hurt, or scared or whatever it was that happened, but it felt so nice to be needed by my daughter. And though I never want to see her upset, I am considering pushing her off the couch next week when she’s not expecting it, just to see if I can win again.