They say daughters are yours forever and sons eventually
leave you.
I have been bracing myself for the day that my son goes off
to college, starts dating someone seriously and gets married. Of course, I’m
sure I’ll “lose him” long before then, as his teenage brain — hopped up on all
those awesome boy hormones — will be nothing short of horrified at the thought
of discussing such issues with his mother.
But I did not anticipate this rejection to happen when he
was 13 months old. For the past few weeks, if his father is in the room, my
baby has zero interest in me. Maybe I should rephrase that: He screams if I
pick him up for a hug, try to comfort him when he’s crying or, worst of all,
try to play with him.
I already can see the “whatever, Mom” look in his eyes as I
try to show him that his dad isn’t the only Lego aficionado of the household.
He hasn’t spoken his first words, and yet I already feel the unmistakable
scarlet letter of uncoolness amongst his future tweener friends.
I’ve tried to blow it off as a phase he’s going through, as
I watch him toddle after his dad in unapologetic worship. But the truth is it
hurts. A lot. But it also is something I’m not likely to change. He will just
have to learn to love me (did I seriously just write that?).
Then, a breakthrough came. My husband spent Saturday evening
in Grand Rapids with his friends, doing manly things like wrestling bears or
constructing barns. Anyway, it meant that the baby and I would have an evening
together.
It was nothing short of magical. The entire evening, I made
a point of not doing anything but focusing on him. No chores, no emails, no
errands. I sat on the floor with him to be on his level. I chased him down the
hallway into his room as he squealed with laughter. I made chicken nuggets,
applesauce and milk for dinner — his favorite.
It made me realize that most of the time, my husband plays
with the baby to keep him occupied as I’m trying to get some sort of work done,
whether it be our laundry or dishes, or making sure a story is edited and
uploaded to the website. I’m so busy getting pulled in six directions that my
baby is attaching to his other parent, and I’m going to do something about it.
From now on, I will make 6-8 p.m. on weekdays Peanut Time,
where nothing will keep me from being with my son. After all, I only have him
for a few more years before his father will unfairly lure him away with the
siren’s song of power tools.
— Sarah Leach is content editor at The Holland Sentinel.
Contact her at (616) 546-4278 or sarah.leach@hollandsentinel.com.
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