Children go through life in phases. Some phases are obvious and a given; the infant phase and toddler phase, for instance. Other phases are unique; which television shows they are hooked on or if they go through an orange food phase. The other two phases every child is likely to bounce between for many years are the Mommy Phase and the Daddy Phase.

The Mommy Phase is when the infant, toddler or child is about all things mommy. Mother and child appear joined at the hip. Where Mommy goes; so does the child. Mommy is the only one who is acceptable in life for fulfilling any of the day-to-day needs. Hungry? Ask mommy. Wet or dirty and in need of a diaper change? Find mommy. Tired? Only mommy will do. It isn’t that I’m any better at any of those things than Daddy. It’s just that I’m the preferred parent at that point in time.

The Daddy Phase is the exact same phase only the roles are reversed. Rather than being the preferred parent for every action, outing and need; Rob is. For all things in life, during the Daddy Phase, only he will do. No substitutions accepted.

While you would think that I would be grateful for a Daddy Phase because it allows a certain amount of extra “me time”; it doesn’t always work out that way. There is something rather insulting with a sense of abandonment about the Daddy Phase. Suddenly, overnight at times, it seems as if I am no longer good enough. The food I prepare is sub-par. The bedtime stories I’ve chosen aren’t long enough or funny enough. Sometimes it seems the things I say and do…well, the Boys seem to take them offensively. It’s heartbreaking to watch them prefers someone else, even if that “someone else” happens to be Rob.

Unfortunately, there aren’t many ways to get over things when I’m not the chosen parent. It’s simply one of those things I just have to move past. Unless of course I’d rather share my feelings with another mother, who is likely to understand. Either way, there really isn’t much I can do about the phase.

I know I should recognize the unseen benefit and enjoy the little bit of extra time I am being offered, while it lasts; especially since I always seem to be complaining about how little “me time” I’ve allowed. Plus, I know that all too quickly, I am going to find myself the object of obsession and soon I’ll be wishing for that extra “me time”. But for now, it’s hard.

It hurts me to hear Emmett John scream “Da” and “Daddy” over and over again. Knowing that he doesn’t say “Ma” or “Mommy”. He doesn’t call me anything. I know I shouldn’t allow it to get to me this way. I know it’s a phase and “This too shall pass.” But damnit, it does!

And now that I’ve vented and whined and had my little pitty party, I think I’ll go try and pay the bills with some blogging related stuff.

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