Ivy’s recent quotable Dad comments:

“I don’t ask you nicely and politely I only ask dad nicely and politely”

“You don’t love me, DAD loves me.”

“I’m not your kid. I’m Dad’s kid, Clara is your kid.”

Now I like to think that I take all the snotty three year old comments in stride.  I don’t let them get to me, sometimes I think she’s  funny, and most of all I’m very glad that Ivy loves her Dad so much.  Nor do I feel unloved by my girls. Clearly since I am the one required to read bedtime stories, rock girls to sleep, kiss hurt fingers and wipe dirty butts I am dear to them as well.

But sometimes…

When every night when John gets home he is trampled at the door by the dogs and kids, and the only way for me to get my own kiss hello is to wade in pushing everyone else out of the way.

When Clara lights up when she hears him talk, and Ivy can go from problem child to angle at the drop of her hat on hearing his voice.

When unknowingly John will ask Ivy to do something that I had been waiting her out on, and she’ll jump up and go do it.

When Ivy asks where her Dad is ten times a day.

…it starts to get a bit grating in a  you-rotten-kids-do-you-forget-who-spends-the-whole-freakin-day-with-you sort of way.

So when I was the only one home when the girls came back from spending a night at Grandma and Grandpa’s I basked in my two minutes of fame. I loved the lit up faces, the hugs hello, and hearing how much Ivy missed me…

…right up until I heard, “Where’s Dad?”and Clara threw up on me.

I hear absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I’m planning my next vacation!