It sounded so much easier when I said it to her - my friend who was going through the same thing. "It just means that you're such a good mommy that he feels safe and secure to venture out - take it as a compliment."  That was my advice to her when her baby ran into the babysitter's arms when she went to pick him up from day care, and I meant it. 

Now it's time to drink my own water. 

I love my little guy so much and I want what's best for him, always, but what's best for him doesn't always feel good to mommy.  
Hudson loves his babysitter and he has such a strong bond with her.  She really has become part of our family.  I'm thankful for that.  But, this week Hudson cried every time she started to leave, and didn't want to let go of her.  This week was all about Lucia.  When we both went in to get him up from his nap, he walked over to Lucia.  When I tried to give him a kiss, he pushed me away.  When I came out to play with him, he looked at me like I had three eyes and went back to playing with Lucia.  

Rejection sucks, especially when it's your 13-month old baby rejecting you.  I know that he wasn't really rejecting me, and he's just testing out his independence, blah, blah, blah - but it still felt like rejection.  It felt really icky.  I felt like I was going to cry a couple of times.

A really needy, insecure, not-so-attractive side started to shine through.  I felt like I was a 10-year old trying out for the soccer team.  "Pick me, pick me!"  I just wanted to be picked. Oh how I wanted to be picked!  I wanted Hudson to be so excited to play with me that nobody else in the world existed for him. Is this so wrong?  Doesn't every mom want to be number one in their baby's eyes?  After all, he's been number one in my life the past 13 months!  I asked myself these questions and then I convinced myself that I was probably the only self-centered, neurotic mommy who was more concerned with being number one than being excited that he loves his babysitter so much.  (Which of course then made me feel even more self-centered). 

Why does it feel so important to me that I am the most important person in Hudson's life?  What would it mean if he enjoyed other peoples' company as much as he enjoyed mine?  I know; I hear the voice of reason even as I type this.  Just as I shared with my girlfriend, it means that he's a healthy and happy and well-adjusted baby.  My rational brain knows that, but my silly little insecure voice keeps me second-guessing.  

I realize that I was making the experience mean that Hudson loves me less than he loves Lucia, or that I was somehow not giving him enough love, affection or dare I say ... that I am not as much fun as his babysitter.  And why would any of that be so bad, anyway?  Those are the questions I really need to dive into and take a peek at. 

I know that it's all normal and healthy, and just a phase that he's going through as he discovers his new world.  I also learned that it's kinda normal for a new-ish mom to feel a little sad the first time her baby snubs her for the babysitter, and that's okay.  When I started writing this post I felt like I had to somehow apologize for feeling sad this week, but I make no apologies.  

The good news is our experience this week shined the light in some dark corners to show me where my work is. I certainly don't want to be the needy mom whose little boy feels like he always has to be by mommy's side. I learned a lot this week.  Most importantly, I learned that Hudson teaches me just as much about myself as I teach him about the world. Perhaps even more.  

Monday was a crappy day. It was a day that a daughter (or son) never expects to happen, but sometimes it just does. It was the day that my Dad decided he no longer wants to be a part of mine and my son's lives. Am I the only one? The only one whose father doesn't want a relationship with his own daughter? After days of sitting with so many mixed emotions I finally decided I would blog about it. 

Yesterday afternoon I was thinking about what I wanted to say and how much of my personal life I wanted to reveal. Would I actually tell the world that my own Dad doesn't want me in his life, or would I just speak about it in vague terms ? Or maybe I can talk about it without revealing that it was my dad who walked away versus some hypothetical family? What was I making it mean about 'me' that my Dad made this choice?

While I was pondering my approach I hopped on to a colleague's blog, and I saw a picture of a father holding his daughter's hand. At first glance I thought it was going to be a post about Amy's husband and their little girl, but once I started reading I realized it was not. As I read the first few sentences, I just about fell out of my chair. She posted it earlier that same morning. "When Your Parent Can't Give You the Love You Deserve." Clearly (and sadly) I am not the only one. 

I couldn't possibly discuss the subject any better than Amy already has, and therefore please visit Amy's post by clicking here.  Her post has given me so many gifts - most of all, perspective and compassion. Bravo to Amy for being so open and telling the truth.