Katie is a daddy’s girl.
He can make her smile and laugh like no one else can, and she lights up like a Christmas tree when he walks into the room.
While I love that my husband and daughter have such a special relationship, I’ll admit, I can get jealous from time to time.
The other night, however, was mommy’s night.
Katie wasn’t feeling well. She’s been sick, has two ear infections, and may or may not be teething. It was bedtime, and she was miserable.
Jason was holding her and doing our usual “laps around the house,” a common ritual when she refuses to go down for the night. The lights were out, the television was turned down so low it was barely audible, and she was almost out. And then she wasn’t.
Out of nowhere, she let loose with a horrible cry. She sat up, eyes wide open and tears streaming, and was inconsolable. She didn’t want a bottle, she didn’t want her binky.
I had been across the room, letting daddy handle it, when I couldn’t take it anymore. Not that Jason can’t handle her – he can, but I had to try.
As soon as I got close, she turned around and held out her arms toward me. It was the first time she had ever reached for me, or anyone.
Jason stuck out his bottom lip in a feigned pout, and I took my baby girl into my arms. She took her binky, laid back, and was asleep in seconds.
As I stood there, swaying back and forth in my living room, holding a sick, tear-stained baby, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
All she needed was mom.