On Being the Chosen One…

She has been ultra-clingy to me lately and it is not just because she has been sick for the last few days.

The clinginess has been going on for well over two weeks.

I read an article about how almost-two year olds do this…choose one parent to cling to.

I am the chosen one.

My husband doesn’t like it one bit.

He is jealous.

His “perfect princess” thinks Mommy is more perfect than Daddy.

I think it’s funny.

Except at bath time and snack time and bed time when she only wants me and no one else.

This makes it a bit difficult to pee alone and make food and sweep the crumb-covered floor.

But recent moments remind me…

Two hours awake in the middle of Thursday night until her fever broke, just she and I, her sweatiness wetting my shirt as I rubbed her back.

“Can I have a hug?” I asked of her yesterday morning.

She laid her head on my chest, hands stretched around my shoulders then looked up at me with a giant smile.

“Can I have another hug?”

A flash of grin and her forehead pushes into my neck, again.

I smell her hair, breathe her in.

This goes on for as long as she allows.

Hug? Smile. Snuggle. Hug? Smile. Snuggle. Hug? Smile. Snuggle.

I am going to enjoy being the chosen one.

After all, we have a ten year old daughter, too.  I know exactly where this is headed.

Advertisements

10 thoughts on “On Being the Chosen One…

  1. Oh, I loved this! You captured this small moment so well, and it is all so true. Your ending is perfect for this piece – I laughed out loud! Thanks for a great way to start a busy Saturday. Your post is the first I’ve read. It will bring a smile again, later this day, when I remember your words!

    Like

  2. I, too, am the chosen one. It does make things difficult, but then I stop and remind myself that he is showing his love for me. One day, he won’t want me to come get him; he will want me to stay away.

    Love this sweet slice of your life! I also love the way you painted the picture through repetition!

    Like

  3. I love the way you wrote about how great it feels to be the chosen one! My son is 3.5 and my daughter is 5. She is sort of over this sort of thing already. Frown. But my son still has a chosen favourite. He, however, goes back and forth. For a few days it will be me, then it will be my husband. Or it will be me for certain activities and my husband for others. I am the only one who can brush his teeth, for example, but daddy is best at helping him put pyjamas on (for now!)

    Like

  4. I love everything about this piece, Dana. I love the repetition of being the chosen one, the mix of long and short sentences to give it a nice rhythm, the fact that there are no private moments mixed in with the cherished time. It is fun and beautiful simultaneously. Thank you for the read.

    Like

  5. I was just going to say what you wrote at the very end! This won’t last forever. Cherish it indeed. I now volunteer in the nursery at church to get those cuddles, as my three are a bit to “grown up” for that sort of thing 😉

    Like

  6. It’s always struggle to find the balance between being stressed out of my mind being a mom and “cherish these moments.” It’s so hard being the chosen one a lot of the time but then other times it’s wonderful! Your post is a good reminder to really savor those snuggles!

    Like

  7. How I savored the snuggles you shared in this slice. Love the last line! These moments are stunningly fleeting. Enjoy all that snuggling! Thanks for sharing it. (Glad I got to meet you today!)

    Like

  8. Oh yes, these precious moments evaporate so quickly! I was always the chosen one with my son. He still talks and turns to me before his father (and he is turning 34 this year).

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s