What its like.
When it comes to parenting, lets face it we all want to be the favorite. The one that the lil one calls in the middle of the night. The one that they snuggle up against at night. Even if you don't want to admit it, you know its true. Its the feeling that we get from it more or less the feeling that someone needs us far beyond what we ever thought possible.
And when we find we aren't that parent. It hurts. Like hell.
I was getting ready for bed last night, doing my usual nightly ritual when I hear my son start wailing. Rushing in I scoop him up and bring him into the bedroom, in hopes to settle him down. But my husband comes up beside us, and within minutes my son is reaching up for daddy, deserting my arms. We climb into bed, knowing that we shouldn't, and usually we don't. Because we've read all the books regarding letting children sleep with you. But on occassion we allow ourselves this simple act. Because sometimes I enjoy it just as much as my precious little boy does. I realize its not always going to be this way that he isn't always going to want to hop in bed, or read him stories. So surely I don't seem the harm in doing this every now and then really.
We all climbed into bed, my husband carrying my son. And as we sat there in bed, my husband trying to settle in for the night with my son, I watched the pair. How n sync they were. How lil man just laid on his chest, and listened, drummed his fingers. And I felt a pain I still can't describe. Because no matter how much I try, or have tried he doesn't get that with me. He doesn't get that comfortable as he did when he was just a month old. And in some unexplainable way, I feel almost jealous of my son and husband for the way they cuddled, they way they just fit together and the way that my husband handled him.
I watched until I fell asleep, sometime later my husband brings my son back to his room before crawling into bed, throwing the covers over and retreating to his side of the bed. We haven't cuddled in bed together in so long I can't remember what its like. I turn to my side, thinking perhaps its not so much about being lil man's favorite that I crave, but rather that sort of affection from my husband.
And when we find we aren't that parent. It hurts. Like hell.
I was getting ready for bed last night, doing my usual nightly ritual when I hear my son start wailing. Rushing in I scoop him up and bring him into the bedroom, in hopes to settle him down. But my husband comes up beside us, and within minutes my son is reaching up for daddy, deserting my arms. We climb into bed, knowing that we shouldn't, and usually we don't. Because we've read all the books regarding letting children sleep with you. But on occassion we allow ourselves this simple act. Because sometimes I enjoy it just as much as my precious little boy does. I realize its not always going to be this way that he isn't always going to want to hop in bed, or read him stories. So surely I don't seem the harm in doing this every now and then really.
We all climbed into bed, my husband carrying my son. And as we sat there in bed, my husband trying to settle in for the night with my son, I watched the pair. How n sync they were. How lil man just laid on his chest, and listened, drummed his fingers. And I felt a pain I still can't describe. Because no matter how much I try, or have tried he doesn't get that with me. He doesn't get that comfortable as he did when he was just a month old. And in some unexplainable way, I feel almost jealous of my son and husband for the way they cuddled, they way they just fit together and the way that my husband handled him.
I watched until I fell asleep, sometime later my husband brings my son back to his room before crawling into bed, throwing the covers over and retreating to his side of the bed. We haven't cuddled in bed together in so long I can't remember what its like. I turn to my side, thinking perhaps its not so much about being lil man's favorite that I crave, but rather that sort of affection from my husband.