Yesterday we were heading out to visit the girls’ aunt/uncle/cousin, and when asked, who wants to go out with daddy, the girls responded with silence. They were much more enthusiastic and competitive for their mother’s attention and arms to carry them – mind you that both of these children are fine walkers and the car was in front of the house, though it was raining.
I get this a lot, of course, being the dad, but I suspect I resent it more, being a dad who is around his children as much as he is, and has been for six years.
We were fortunate that we were able to have children born in the late spring months, and that gave me time off from work, so I could be home as these two were babies. I could regularly be seen shopping in the markets, or going out for walks with my oldest in the baby sling. I took them on “nature walks” around the block. I make the trips sans their mother all over. And we go to our favorite Japanese and Indian restaurants, just the three of us (or sometimes just the two of us, if one of them has another date planned). I read the bedtime stories and help them navigate the computer. And of course, I’m the guy who often settles disputes via video sedation. They know I’m always ready to pop a video. Sometimes, yes it’s a matter of getting time to clean up dinner, but I also like to watch, dance, and pause, making points about the images and sounds (like how the voice of Jack from the new Noggin show Jack’s Music Box is the voice of Sesame Street’s Baby Bear, David Rudman, who created JMB).
But still, whenever they have a question, the call, “mommy…” Even when she is not home, they say, “mommy, I mean, daddy…” When given a choice between mommy or daddy for who gets to read, it’s mommy (usually). And the little one especially does not like to get into the car for that nap, when she sees she’s leaving mommy at home; we have some serious persuasion to get her to go.
In the first season of Friends, Ross’s ex-wife Carol, who left him for a woman, is pregnant with their child, who was supposedly conceived during their last attempt to salvage their marriage. Despite the divorce, Ross has to be involved in the lives of his ex- and her lover Susan (it was a sitcom, after all). When discussing language issues regarding what the baby might call Susan, Ross asks Susan what the two say about him to the baby (who might have still been in utero, I can’t recall). Susan sarcastically says, “we usually just refer to you as Bobo the Sperm Guy.”
Some days I know how Ross feels.