No Big Whoop

Despite my occasional browsing of celebrity tabloids, my new obsession with Tori Spelling's reality show, the one time I operated the rice steamer with no water in the appliance, and a recent loss of my cell phone in my own home, I am a reasonably intelligent woman. I KNOW toddlers go through phases that they neither initiate nor choose. They are toddlers. They know not what they do.

I have loved Baby Zog from the moment the little stick showed a + sign. He is part of me, grew in me, makes my faces, has my big brown eyes, yada, yada, yada. He might not know it yet, but he loves me. At this point in his innocent life, he doesn't know he has a choice not to love me (bonus for me!). This I know. Remember, I am a reasonably intelligent woman.

However, I am also a first time mom. And lately, this means it's my first time experiencing the "daddy infatuation phase." Boy oh boy is Baby Zog in that phase. When I gather him up from school, he runs to me, looks around, and says, "Daddy?" This afternoon, while I was at aerobics he had an hour of true two-year old tantrums and bouts of will against his father, and yet, when I picked him up for a hug, he cried for Daddy (seriously, Daddy hasn't given you your way for an hour and you still prefer him?)

The one that really hurt was at bedtime. I'm fortunate that - for the moment - his love for books is strong enough that he'll overlook me as the reader. We finished Polar Bear Polar Bear, Good Night Moon, Hippos Go Bezerk, Chugga-Chugga Choo Choo, and Doggies. All was well. I put him softly down into his crib, tucked him in with his beloved Ernie and he looked up at me and said, "Night, night Daddy."

"No buddy, I'm mommy," I said, curious about his memory lapse. "Can you say night night Mommy?"

He looked up at me, shook his head furiously and said, "No? No. Night Night Daddy!"

So now, I am a reasonably intelligent woman with a bruised ego. I'm resisting the urge to take it personally becuase I know the "mommy phase" must surely be coming soon.