Reminiscent of the Dinosaurs sitcom from the 90's, over the past couple of weeks I have gradually learned the full definition of Dad. According to Webster's Dictionary...
Dad (dād) –noun [informal]
1. Father.
2. Male giver of life.
3. Not mom.
Justin Alexander has not quite crossed into full blown separation anxiety for either of us, but he is definitely aware of who his parents are and 
will often become decidedly (albeit temporarily) whiny when asked to separate from his mommy. And what I've found out over the past few days is that, given how much I do for the little squirt on a daily basis, this subtle (albeit unintentional) act of rejection can cause some cosmic-sized emotional wounds. I know... I know... every seasoned dad reading this is laughing at me and probably saying something along the lines of "get used to it buddy" or "join the club pal"... After all, what athlete, actor, or otherwise celebrated icon has ever stepped up to the microphone and said "Hi Dad!"... um... no. That would be the obligatory "Hi Mom" moment of sports and entertainment. It's as if it's in their contracts or something. One day somebody will thank dad instead... and they will probably get kicked off the team or go to jail or something.
Of course, the problem is only compounded by his association of mommy with food. Even after just 8 months of life, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Mommy = breastmilk, while Daddy = way to get to mommy. And so when I go to get Justin out of his crib in the morning, I sometimes have to wait through his 2-minute drill of pushing away from me and looking over my shoulder to see if mommy is coming. And only then I can get a little acknowledgement as that other parent that works here too. Oh, and on his "needy days", don't let mommy pass by when I am trying to feed, play with, change, console, hold, dress, or photograph Justin. It's over. And while V, has been real good about working with me on this subject (downplaying his reactions, trying to sneak by when I'm with him, allowing me to feed him more often, etc.) having to go from being "the best thing since sliced bread" to chopped liver can still be a tough pill to swallow. Anyone who knows how involved I am with Justin will quickly understand the frustration here. Sometimes I rush to pick him up and in his eyes his only response is "Cool... are you taking me to mommy now?". Man... that's cold, homey.
Okay... Okay... so I readily admit that my claims are all exaggerated. Yes, Justin still has plenty of fun with his dad, we still have days when it is totally cool to be daddy, and overall there's no question for his love for both of his parents. But those few times during the week when it doesn't quite go that way always seem like an eternity to me.
To be honest, it has also driven the occasional tension wedge between me and V, leaving me to 
sometimes begrudge his affinity for her and subconsciously admonishing her penchant for breastfeeding him at the drop of a hat.... hungry or not. Just today, as I watched him gravitate towards her, I found myself trying to calculate the amount of time she spends with him without it leading to breastfeeding. And while I am still (not very, but) just a tad apprehensive about him becoming overly dependent on the breast, for the most part I do understand that this shouldn't bother me nearly as much as it does.
Now mind you, I don't want to paint the picture that we are over here competing for his love and attention, because there is certainly enough to go around. But I do want to honestly document what it feels like some days to be the residential hot potato. And so, with that said, I know I have to do better to not resent V for her desire to breastfeed, nurture or provide for Justin Alexander in her mommy-like ways... especially knowing that he may grow out of this and not be such a momma's boy after all [Yes, his daddy is a momma's boy too... but that's not the point here...] In the meantime, if the boy tries to jump out of my arms one more time just because his mother entered the room, I may have to slash the tires on his walker and vandalize his playpen. Because I've been peed on at least one time too many to put up with this any longer. So, Justin Alexander... stop this prejudicial behavior immediately, or else I'll feed you to the night night monster. Understood?!
Phew. That was therapeutic. Thanks for listening.
2 comments:
First off, I wanted to mention how grateful I am to be in a marriage where we can talk about the elephant in the room. Not many dads/husbands would be bold enough to admit this (not to the whole world anyway - ha, ha). So I commend you for being brutally honest and to reiterate what you've already mentioned - the feelings you are experiencing are very normal.
Second, I thought I'd remind you (publicly) that we've already been through a phase where Justin only wanted you and my feelings were crushed. He went through the same exact thing in reverse- he would look over my shoulder for you, reach for you when I was holding him, and crack up when you passed by. There came a point where you had to sneak by me, too, so that Justin wouldn't leap out of my arms to get a hold of you. Remember those days? Well, I do - very vividly, too. I remember thinking to myself - after all this sleep I am losing for Justin to pump / breastfeed around the clock and all he wants is his daddy?! Sounds all too familiar, doesn't it?
Anyway, I just thought I'd remind you of when the roles were reversed and tell you to be ready for many more flip flops in this area. I am going to need your support when you guys start doing exclusive father and son things together and Justin forgets about his momma for a while. And you are going to need my support when Justin is sick and only wants his momma to hold him.
So this week your name might be Not The Momma. But next week mine just might be Not The Daddy. You never know. Lucky for us, we're in this together!
You guys make me wanna cry.
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