I’ve noticed something around this house. Rick and I are equal co-parents except for one little caveat.
He’s the king and I’m more of a lowly royal assistant.
Especially when it comes to my 21-month-old twins. They like me well enough. Well, Chase definitely loves me. Like a faithful Labrador, he runs to greet and hug me at all times. Whether I’ve been gone 22 seconds or 3 hours.
And Harlowe? Let’s just say she’s quite fond of me. We share a love of whitefish salad and Trader Joe’s chicken cilantro wontons and that alone sustains our relationship.
But Rick. Oh my god. They can not get enough of that guy. Rick happens to be off on Mondays (he works Saturdays) so together we take the twins to a morning class. A perfect opportunity for us to each have a twin in our laps and blissfully share a bonding moment as a family. EXCEPT Chase and Harlowe want nothing and I mean, nothing, to do with me.
They both crawl all over Rick, demanding his constant attention while I sit back and try to determine whether I’m supposed to sing these dumb kid songs if I’m not technically with any children. I ultimately decided to draw the line at shaking maracas. It’s sad and desperate to shake alone.
A part of me enjoys the respite from the mad high impact energy of twins. But the other side of me wants to turn to Chase and Harlowe and say…
“Hey twinsies, do you remember when I used to sleep two hours, feed and change you for an hour, sleep two more hours, feed you again, repeat, repeat, repeat? ALL NIGHT LONG. I was so tired that I felt like I had been in a car accident every day. Remember how I looked like sh*t because I couldn’t even summon up the energy to order a new lip gloss or concealer online, never mind go get my highlights done. And have you seen my stomach lately? I need abdominal hernia surgery and a tummy tuck. That’s all you guys. So please give me at least a little respect when fun awesome dad is around. You don’t have to fawn all over me. But maybe just a nod in my direction. Just something to say, ‘Hey mom, we salute you. Is that too much to ask?!”
But mostly I’m thinking I might stop going to the class and just go get a bagel and read my New York Post. If they let lowly royal servants do that type of thing.
Photo Courtesy of This Day Photography