Recently, W has been very attached to his Dad. He loves spending time with him, reading, and shooting hoops. Duties that used to be my responsibility, bath time and reading, are now strictly W and Daddy activities.
I'm not j. Ok, well maybe a little bit. When a child wants you, chooses you, demands you and your attention, it can be a wonderful feeling. It can also be exhausting. So, I'm not going to lie, I have come to enjoy those times when W wants his Dad. I can facebook stalk people, read, or actually use the bathroom in peace.
Seth left for his conference today and I can already tell it is going to be a long three days. "Where's Daddy?" is going to be constant refrain. After he got out of the tub, put on his footie pajamas, and brushed his teeth (we're trying to teach him not to swallow the toothpaste but to spit it out - its not going well. I'm hoping E will be a dutiful second child and just pick this stuff up on her own. I really can't imagine having to have this conversation... "Spit! NO! Don't swallow it! Spit! Spit!" again.) we called Daddy to read the last book and to pray together before bed.
It is those moments that make it all worth it. The craziness, the tantrums, the wanting the bubbles from the potty box without actually using the potty. He must have asked me for the freaking bubbles a thousand times in an hour. At one point, when he was looking and sounding uber pathetic, I almost caved but then I remembered that I would like him to be potty trained before E so I remained strong. I just repeated the mantra, "If you go peepee or poopy on the potty, you can pick from the box and have the bubbles" over and over again. Seeing his face light up when he realized his Dad was on the phone made the whole bubble fiasco less aggravating.
Parenting is like running. It can be enjoyable at first but then it gets hard. You question why you're out there, putting all this effort into something that seemingly gives back very little, but then something happens; an effortless run, a conquered distance, or a met time goal. Suddenly, it becomes clear: running is good. Running is your friend and has a place in your life. You actually like it. Tonight, after kissing my son goodnight through his bedrail (it's just something we do... I don't know) I was reminded that despite everything I really do like him. In fact, I love him like I love no one else. Even when he walks right past the potty and pees on my carpet.