It is no secret that Emily absolutely adores her daddy. He can do no wrong in her eyes, and when he does do something wrong (mostly missing a page in a book, “Daddy, you MISSED-A page”, they laugh about it for days. But it is also no secret that she adores her mommy (whew!). On many, many, many occasions, she has pushed everyone else away to get to/be with me. Bedtime, middle of the night, after naps, scared, tired, sore, annoyed, overwhelmed, etc… it is all mommy. I think I can confidently say that Emily does not have a favorite parent.
But last night and again this morning I started to wonder…
Last night D got home early enough to do bedtime stories. Bedtime stories are so much better now that we can cuddle with Em in her big girl bed. But one of the cuddlers grabbed a beer on the train on the way home. And one of us can’t have beer – ok, 2 of us can’t have beer, but Emily can’t have beer for 97 years! In my pre-pregnancy life, I was not a big beer drinker (or really a big drinker),but I wanted a little taste of the beer. And D sure enjoyed that kiss! Until Em said, “No mommy, stop, you’ll hurt daddy!”.
Then this morning, D was taking an area rug out to the breezeway for return pickup (because the company sent us the wrong one and then sold out of the one I loved! ARG!), and Emily said, “No daddy, that is too heavy, let mommy do it”.
So now, I am not saying she has a favorite, but she clearly does not want her daddy hurt, either by the force of my kiss or by lifting a rug. Comparably, she clearly also sees me as Wonder Woman – strong enough to harm a man with a kiss, and strong enough to carry a rug by myself (ok, I am sure I COULD have carried it, but D did it, and that was better).