As the plane touched down, I was anxiously awaiting seeing Cora’s face as I came down the escalators to the waiting area. While pulling up to the gate (about 15 minutes early even!) I texted hubby to let him know I had landed. A minute or two later as I was jetting down the jet bridge I got a somewhat frantic call from hubby: “What do you mean you’re there? Where are you?” Me: “On the jet bridge, why?” Hubby: “Well we’re not even there yet – we’re about 5 minutes away! You’re really early!” Crap. Seriously? There went my little fantasy about running into my baby’s chubby, waiting arms.
I sadly plodded down to the baggage carousel and plucked my bag from the black and silver river of luggage. Then, I sat down and waited. After about 5-10 minutes I was the only person left in the baggage area save for the airport personnel and the rental car counter clerks. I sat and looked out the door expectantly. Finally I saw them coming up the walkway. Excitement flashed over me again.
I ran to the door and waited just inside. Hubby activated the automatic doors, put Cora down and said “who’s that?” As she studied me for a split second I held my breath. Then she came running pell mell toward me and I was thrilled. I scooped her up and hugged her and smooched her and told her I loved her and that I was happy to see her. By that time hubby had caught up. Cora patted my face and smiled … and then promptly turned around and said “Dah-yee” while reaching for my husband. That was SO not cool.
Since then, she has been a “Dah-yee’s girl”. Totally and completely. Mommy is fine and all, but we want Dah-yee whenever possible. The night I got home, I put her down for the night, just as I always do when I’m home. She looked up at me from her crib and said “Dah-yee?” Then when I left she cried until hubby went up to give her a hug. This whole weekend if hubby went upstairs to get something
I know everyone says these things go in waves – they ebb and flow – that next week I’ll be in high favor. But there is a little part of me that keeps whispering “but what if doesn’t … what if you’re not … what if she’s never close to you again?” I know its silly, but *I* am the Mommy. *I* am supposed to be the superhero. *I* am supposed to be the One above all others. The one she goes to when she realllly needs comfort. So far I’m just the one who helps out when Daddy isn’t available.
For now I’m just doing the only reasonable thing I can. Keeping a positive attitude. (And giving her whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.)