No, Daddy!


For the past week, Justin and I have been so wrapped up in our own grief and processing that we didn’t take much time to focus on Robbie.  He spent our time in Kentucky with family and friends, while Justin and I survived long, emotional days with hardly any energy left over for a boisterous two-year-old.

And now we’re seeing the repercussions.  For the most part, Robbie is fine with me.  There have been more moments than I would like to admit where I have lacked patience.  There have been tears on both parts.  But, at the end of the day, he loves giving me hugs and kisses and trying to get out of bedtime.  Tonight actually involved three trips to the potty, two complete strip downs, two baths, two teeth brushings…  You get the picture.

It’s not quite the case for Justin, who Robbie has never seen shed a tear until last week.  And I think it scares him a little.  This morning, Justin tried to get Robbie out of bed to save me some time.  Robbie was standing at his crib talking about his fun rest when Justin went in.  He took one look at Justin and threw himself on the bed, screaming, “No!”  I took pity on the both of them and got Robbie out of bed.  And it all went downhill from there.

Running late with a toddler attached to your legs does not make for a good morning.  Particularly when he is sobbing and you are late.  I finally managed to untangle myself from his clutches and asked Justin to help me out.  As soon as Robbie saw Justin coming towards him, he took off for his room screaming at the top of his lungs.  Just when Justin started to go into his room, the door slammed in his face.

Both of us were taken aback, but Justin was hurt.  It’s horrible to have anyone do that to you, but especially a two-year-old.  And for the first time.  So this weekend will be time for me to spend with Robbie, hopefully showing him that both of his parents are back and love spending time with him.  And, God willing, we’ll postpone the door slams until he’s six or seven…


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