This summer, I will be in charge of caring for my little girl during the day. I will be going solo, five days a week, for about eight hours each day. It is an intimidating thought, even when I know that I am not the stereotypical “guy” that fears diapers and puke and baby tears. (I rant rather violently about that here.)
Yesterday was a good test for me, though. Erin had a date with some friends of hers, and we thought it would be a good idea for her to nurse Abby in the morning (as is her routine), then head out for the day. I would watch my little girl, feed her lunch, get her bathed and dressed, and bring her over to hang out with the girls in the afternoon.
Daddy-Daughter dates are some of the greatest moments in my life. It isn’t that I don’t love being together as a family with my wife, but Erin is always the primary care-giver when she’s around. Abby, if upset, wants her instead of me, and I don’t blame her. Erin has fed Abby from her body for the last ten months. The best I can offer is a spoon. So sometimes it takes my wife’s complete absence for me to really get a chance to be the centre of Abby’s attention.
Admittedly, some of that attention is bad; no one enjoys a screaming baby. But it’s a small price to pay for bath time and long walks, trips to mall and cuddles on the couch.
I’m a lucky man to have that to look forward to.