01 November 2014

Second Fiddle

For a month now, I have been first fiddle when it comes to Peter. We left Haiti -and David- in order for me to deliver my second child in the U.S. That was a rough day--leaving is not my favorite. And to make matters more difficult, an almost two-year-old just can't understand where Dada went and didn't seem to be able to connect with the familiar face on the phone.

At the risk of extending this metaphor to breaking, as first fiddle, I have a wonderful ensemble behind me--some excellent violas and cellos and basses who back me well. But there's only one first fiddle, and I was it. The timeouts, the bedtime enforcement, the toy cleanup battles...first fiddle territory. It wasn't without advantages--it also means you get more snuggles and more book-reading and more...well, everything.

But yesterday, my status suffered a demotion. Yesterday was awesome. Not due to costumes or candy or any kind of spooky fun...but because of the look on Peter's face when David​​ came downstairs. "Dada OME! Dada BACK!" He couldn't seem to say it enough. Our month of separation was finally ended, and the rest of the day was walks (with Dada) and books (with Dada) and blocks (with Dada) and eating (with Dada). In the store, he kept pushing me away from the cart..."bye bye Mama. Dada." At lunch, the same story. It was eaten happily on David's lap, a quiet smile on his face. 

This is one time I don't mind playing second fiddle.