Tonight at dinner, I had a realization. I have to share my husband with my daughters. I'm not completely naive. I have known this for years. Ever since EC entered this world head first into his waiting arms. But tonight, I understood it a little more.
During dinner, I was talking around the incessant chatter of little girls, trying in vain to have a conversation with G. Today was an indoor day. Meaning we didn't leave the house. These are the days I dread as a stay at home mom and they are usually the days that push me over the edge. When G gets home on a day like today, I am ready to burst with unspoken words. And usually, I feel a little entitled to some conversation with my husband over dinner. Is that too much to ask?
It occurred to me as I was about to tell EC that it was Mommy's turn to talk, that she would have to wait to ask Daddy her question. She had been waiting all day to talk to him, too. And just like that, I stopped talking and let her take a nice long turn chatting about cowgirls and hats and birthday presents and teeth. Because as much as I miss adult interaction during the day, she misses her Daddy. She might get to spend all day long with Mommy, but Daddy is only around for an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening and those two hours are taken up by breakfast and dinner and bath time. Not nearly enough conversation time for a little girl and her Daddy.
So, tomorrow morning, when we're pouring the cereal and making the coffee, I will try to remember that while I am entitled to have a conversation with my husband, it can wait until a little girl has a conversation with her Daddy.