Monday, March 03, 2008


Getting ready for bed a few nights ago, Ada asked: "Will do you me a favorite?"

My girl plays favorites. When I am headed out to work, she refuses kisses. When she and I are sitting on the floor playing and Chris says he is headed out, she barely acknowledges him. (Until he leaves. Minutes later she asks if Papa is going to have oatmeal with us, or if he wants to hide too.)

I am used to being Ada's favorite, her go-to playmate and support. Sometimes that role is a burden, the mama-love weighing on me. Much of the time I revel in her love, knowing she wants and expects my attention, my kisses, tickles and hugs. When the love that usually comes so naturally and so intensely is held back, I feel the sting.

This morning at breakfast, Ada repeatedly announced "Kiss!" and leaned over to plant a jam-coated smooch on me. When I gathered up my bag to go upstairs for work, Ada didn't bat an eye. Then I picked up the laptop, announcing "ok, I am going upstairs to work now."

That's when the wailing began. Not because I was leaving, but out of protest that I was taking the computer with me.

"Nooooo! I need the 'puter! I need Sesame!" Ada cried.

I think we all know what the real favorite is.


  1. (un)relaxeddad3/04/2008 5:57 AM

    Rats! I forgot to fill in the word verification and closed the window. And it was the greatest comment ever! Utterly a one of a kind.

    Anyway, you'll never know. Meanwhile, I always feel pierced whenever I have to head off to work and dudelet is feeling a bit lonesome. He'll just blank me or look away, though sometimes he'll relent and want a cuddle.

  2. Last night I came home late. Bump was at a meeting, and I heard the babysitter say ". . .or it could be your Mommy . . ."

    Lumpyhead ran to the door, beaming expectantly. When he saw it was me - not his father - his face fell and he burst into tears.