Cory is putting Nora to bed. She is crying and screaming her eyes out. I know what she wants: me. I let it go on for over 20 minutes and go to the door; watching Cory rock and shush her. Of course he is doing nothing and trying the best he can, but I still want to swipe her up, just to stop the tears.
He tells me to go lay down. I say it hardly seems worth it to go through this. His response “Does it seem worth it that she will never let me put her bed. You can’t be the only one that ever puts her bed.”
He’s right, I know this. So I go back to bed. I don’t go to sleep, I can’t. So I meander on the computer, type this post, try to read and I listen…silence.
I can still hear her sniffles, but she’s drifting.
Cory is an amazing dad and wants to help. I want him to too, but 1) he’s been working so hard all day, and hasn’t eaten dinner, so I am trying to help out as well; and 2) it wrenches me to hear her crying that hard, the crying where you take quick, short inhalations in-between sobs (we’ve all been there).
It’s a catch-22 having my daughter so attached to me. On one hand, I love that she loves me so much but on the other it makes it difficult for any one else to take care of her. I still haven’t left her to be babysat. I guess I am just as attached as she is.