Sunday, August 15, 2004
That's what daddies are for
Hey, folks. I had to let you know that times don't stay hard for long.
Right now, for instance, Petra is being ferried around on her daddy's shoulders. Yes, she's 2.5 months old, and she loves it. She also loves it when he talks silly-talk to her, counts her body parts, makes her "fly" when she pushes off with her feet, shows her around his home office, and so many other things.
She loves "flying" so much that she pushes off almost every time she ends up on his lap. The other morning, Tim said to me, "I'm doomed, aren't I?" But you can tell he loves it, too. And as I keep telling him, it's a built-in upper-body workout, with built-in gradual increase in resistance as she grows.
I used to think I would feel jealous when Petra discovered, as so many kids do, that her daddy inevitably had more energy for rough, all-out play (after Mommy had done 8 or more feedings in 24 hours, carried her around most of the time, et cetera). Right now, though, I mostly feel grateful. I feel grateful because there's something Tim enjoys doing with Petra and is good at, I feel grateful for the breaks that their play gives me, and I feel grateful that someone else is helping her go through her ever-growing supply of energy. (I swear, children must still be connected to some cosmic source of energy that grownups gradually forget how to tap. If only they were erudite enough to preach about it, they'd convert the world in no time.)
So I love watching them play. And at least until I get the rest of my strength back, that's what daddies are for.