Just call me Macaroni...

No one ever tells you how much of parenting is bittersweet.  So many things seem to either be a blessing in disguise or great on the surface, but really complicated underneath-- and most the time, a bizarre combination of the two.

Take bonding, for example.  While I would never want anyone to call Charlie a "Mama's Boy", deep down, I would love to be his rockstar/hero/best friend/confidante/etc.  At the same time, there is absolutely nothing that compares to seeing him mimic Jason, pick out his clothes to match Jason's, or go into a rapturous dance when he hears Jason's truck in the evenings.

On the flip side, though -- when you're #1, you have a lot more work in store for you.  Right now, Charlie is going through an all-Daddy, all the time phase.  As in, Mommy tries to lift him out of his crib, "No, Daddy do it!" or Mommy tries to sit down next to him on the couch, "No, Daddy!  He's a boy!" 

Clearly, Charlie has recognized a bit of a physical difference between myself and him and his father -- and decided that I'm not in the club.

Yes, I'm changing waaaay fewer diapers, barely ever responsible for restaurant manners, and enjoying more free time than I've known since early 2009, but it's more than a little bit heart-breaking to realize that I'm not the "go-to-gal" in his life anymore.

After quite a bit of thought, though, I think I'm starting to understand the situation from a 2 year old perspective.  You see, Jason is pudding -- always special, always exciting, always a treat.  And me?  I'm macaroni -- a day to day favorite, comforting, sometimes even craved, but no match for dessert.  Looking forward to the next few decades, I think I actually prefer being the macaroni -- not quite as exciting as pudding, honestly, what is?!?

A Perfect Combination