Maeve and I have begun a new morning ritual, now that Lisa has started back at work. Poor Lisa’s early shift demands she leave the apartment by 6:30am, which means it now falls to me to get Maeve up, ready, and over to Nana's. Now, don’t let that fool you into thinking that I’m shouldering this great responsibility, or that I’m doing some inordinate amount of work above the few parental tasks I had on my plate before. Lisa sets ‘em up: She puts out Maeve’s clothes; she makes sure there’s a clean bottle and plenty of formula; she packs the diaper bag. I knock ‘em down: I pick up a smiling baby and feed her.
I notice, though, that the added morning bonding time hasn’t made things easier for me. It was hard before when I only got to smooch her on my way out the door, but even now that I get a good hour of daddy/daughter time, it still sucks. If anything, it’s the difference between jumping into a cold pool and inching your way in. Ripping off a Band-Aid™ and pulling it off slowly. Meh. I’ll take it.
1 year ago