I gave birth to a Daddy’s girl. I don’t know why, but I suspect that it was because the doctor who put my just born baby on my chest, faced the baby directly at Daddy. As I looked down to stare into those perfect blue eyes, I saw her fuzzy damp head instead. Daddy got the eyes. Oh, we looked at each other eventually, but the imprinting with Daddy was done and my baby duckling has been waddling after him ever since.
Let me be clear and say that I know my girl loves me. It’s just that sun rises and sets in Daddy’s eyes. Lucky girl, though, seeing as her Daddy is a damn fine man.
So, back to me and my second class citizen status.
The other night, as with every night, after the dinner is eaten, the bath is had and the teeth are brushed, it was time to say ‘goodnight.’ Daddy reads her a bed time story (of course he does), then tucks her in. She always comes out to tell me ‘good night’ and to give me a kiss, which is one of the sweetest moments of the day. And, this routine stands to reason because I’m home with her all day while he works. She genuinely needs some Daddy time.
Well, the other night I was in her room getting her bed ready and she comes in, freshly scrubbed head to toe. With sippy cup in hand, she turns to me as if to say good night and just looks at me. I start in with my hugs and kisses and ‘sweet dreams’ and she, plain as day, says ‘I don’t love you.’
Ouch.
You might think that we’d had a brawl that day, that I’d somehow crossed a line in that two year old head and so THAT’S why she was mad. But we didn’t and she wasn’t. She just felt the need to say she didn’t love me.
Then it hit me…this was the very first moment in a lifetime of little moments where she defines herself as separate from me. Not exactly in a rebellion type of way, just an ‘I’m my own person” sort of way. The individual is born.
As much as it broke my heart, that comment made me proud, too. Proud? Yes, proud. She must feel not only exceedingly comfortable with me and my love but also intrepid and daring to pull away from me like that. It also means that I’m actually (probably) doing OK as a mom – you know, giving her the platform from which to jump into life. At least that’s what I tell myself and will KEEP telling myself as the years roll by.
Has this ever happened to you? Please tell me someone else has been equally shunned by a toddler.
photo credit: hlkljgk
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{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
Kate–great column, great insight. You-know-who just knows how to pull your chain. H
Our boy is going through the same phase. And I continue to tell him, “Well, I still love you and I have enough love for both of us.”
What a great way to handle it – I hadn’t thought of that. Hang in there, mama, and know that you’ve got company. Let me know if he grows out of it!
Love it! I realize I’m reading this about a year after the fact, but this just happened today with my 2 year old. (hence me googling toddlers saying I don’t love you). I thought, “is this normal?” all day long….afraid she was going to turn into some sociopath or something.
I told her I loved her at breakfast, and out of absolutely nowhere her response was, “no, I no love you”. UGH…. that stung. Daddy (who too is a damn fine man but also the “fun” one in her eyes”) did however tell me she cried for Mommy the whole way to daycare. She’s a good girl…very independent and certainly a pistol. Guess it’s just a sign of times to come…payback as my mother would call it ; )
@Kim. Independence is super good and a life long trait that you’ll be proud of, I’m sure. That said, it hurts doesn’t it, to be rejected like that, right? But, as moms the world over know, raising confident, capable kids is the goal and somewhere your little one saying that is a sign that she feels both confident and capable enough to push you a little. Payback, maybe? Normal, you bet! Hang in there girl!