Daddylove

"My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it."
Clarence Budington Kelland

What is it about seeing a baby with his daddy? There's nothing I like to watch more than Dane interacting with Robbie. Robbie and I were playing today and I was really on my game (making really silly faces, singing songs, waving all sorts of visually stimulating toys in front of his face, etc.). He was engaged and seemed pretty happy with the entertainment I was providing. The SECOND (and I mean second) Dane walks in from being at work all day, his mood changes. Robbie immediately stops looking at me and looks for his Dad. As soon as he finds him, his eyes lock on Dane's every move. I no longer exist. And while I feel as though I should be upset or somewhat hurt by this, I'm not. It's both elating and relieving that Robbie not only knows his Daddy but is also excited to see him. Robbie is so lucky to have such a wonderful daddy. It's nice to know that if something happened to me, Robbie would be perfectly fine in Dane's care. Dane is a wonderful role model for Robman and I know they will be great buddies when Robbie gets older.

Misadventures of the day:

Peeing while holding a baby. This is something they don't prepare you for in those childcare prep classes. So I take Robbie, sans stroller and carrier (because they won't fit, of course), into the stall where the changing table is located. I lay down my soft changing pad, change Robbie, and realize I have to relieve myself (it must be something about being around all those toilets. I don't have to go before I change him. Weird, I know.) So, I think I'll just strap him to the changing table and do my business. Unfortunately, none of those changing tables ever have the straps. It's like they were once there but someone decided to sever them off with their teeth leaving nothing but shard remains of what was once a reliable restraint. What do people do with the severed straps? Collect them and make a vest? Anyway, by this time I really have to go with nowhere to put my screaming baby. So I have to hold Robbie while unbuttoning my pants, pulling them down (with undies all in one movement) and pee. It's quite a process, but one I've come to master.

Random strangers touching baby's hands. WHY? Don't people know that babies put their hands in their mouths? I don't know where your hands have been, you rando! I know you think my baby is cute, but does it have to extend to touching him? Do you touch me because you think I'm cute? No, because that would land you in JAIL, you creepo! Strangers, you can coo at my baby, but please stop touching his hands to see if he'll grip your finger. It's a REFLEX, it's not because he likes you.

Eagerly awaiting another misadventure...