a pariah in my own home

I have grown accustomed to being liked by people. I'm not talking about people basking in my radiant glory or anything (although were that the case no one would be turned away). I just mean that I like to think I'm a generally agreeable person, and I'm used to having my efforts reciprocated by others. And when people are dicks to me, I feel sufficiently justified in, you know, cursing the names of their ancestors and stuff.

Passive aggressive? Sure. Pathologically averse to confrontation? I'll give you that. But I must say I've been served well enough for most of my nearly 27 years.

Until now.

You see, Chins just doesn't seem to like me all that much. Sure, he tolerates me well enough, especially when I'm wiping yellow poop from his feet, elbows, back of the head, and wherever else babies manage to get it. And yeah, he smiles at me when I put him under his favorite mobile.

But to paraphrase the old song: anything I can do, Mama can do better.

I don't mean to say it's a competition for Chins' affection; that one was over before it started. All I mean is that when d.w. is at class for a couple of hours every evening, I'm left to tend to a baby who gets crankier every minute his mom isn't around, trying desperately to tread water until she returns.

I rock him. I bounce him. I sing to him. I even sit him in front of the mobile, under his little activity gym thing, and in front of the window to the street. No dice.

Then, just as his wails become ear-splitting, d.w. waltzes in through the front door, scoops up her now-cooing little boy in her arms and sits down to nurse him, milk flowing freely out the corners of his grinning mouth.

And off in a corner there I am, dazed, hair slightly askew, grateful for the newfound quiet but admittedly a little hurt seeing my wife and son cuddled together, gazing into each other's eyes and smiling sweetly.

Actually, now that I think about it, who could possibly think ill of that?

Comments

[dear wife]

Admittedly he really just prefers women. When out he never gives men a secound glance, but he will smile at any strange woman that gives him the time of day.

[miah]

when i used to leave babyg w/greendaddy he'd end up walking hours, with the baby in the baby bjorn. it was the only thing that didn't make her shriek.

now, so long as i sneak out when baby's not looking, she forgets i was there to begin with...

[Jennifer]

Its the boobs. Source of all nourishment. Babies respond to high pitched voices as well. My husband cared for our firstborn while I did my last years in university, he found that by using the snuggli, it was an awesome way to soothe.

[Jasmine]

LOVE the onesie!

[Henitsirk]

Yup, it's the boobahs.

That is the sweetest picture I've seen in a long time.

[andrea]

I do love the Ramones onesie. How cool is that.
Maybe if you'd learn to lactate your kid would like you more! Jeez!

[lisa]

My husband used to have the same problem, until I went back to work and he started staying home with our daughter. Now things have changed. My boobs are still the favorite parent, followed closely by my husband, with me (any non-boob part of me) coming in at a distant third. She's still polite to me, but she absolutely lights up when she sees her daddy.

[Kaz]

Don't worry, kids go through so many phases. Right now, my daughter is in her "daddy" phase, where it seems that many times she wants me, rather than mommy.

Not so fun in the middle of the night, though...

Your turn is coming.

[Henitsirk]

I was thinking about this and realized that I could have been a bit more reassuring. My kids were all about the boobahs as babies, but now we are deafened every evening by "PAPAPAPAPAPA!! Papa's home!" I'm total chopped liver even though it's been me entertaining them all day.

[Dan]

Give it a little more time, zdaddy. I'm two months ahead of you in the baby department, and I've just recently started seeing some definite changes in Peanut's approach to me. I'm still dazed and my hair is still slightly askew, but it's all worth it now that Peanut is smiling and jabbering at me.

And not a moment too soon.

[Mitch McDad]

It's just a mommy thing. they have a built in advantage.

[Her Bad Mother]

It's already been said, but... it IS the boobs. Your popularity will grow, trust me. The day will come, very, very soon, when Mama is pushed aside because Daddy tosses! baby! and! tickles! baby! and! is! so! much! fun! (in ways that tired mothers never can be. I speak from experience.)