A has B wrapped around her little finger. She is a Daddys Girl. She doesn’t know it. But she does. It’s been this way since she was born. B didn’t exactly prepare himself for fatherhood and was in a state of semi panic, semi disillusionment for the nine months before she was born. As soon as she appeared, B changed. In that split second he became a father, he became a Dad, a best friend, a comfort, a protector and a Prince to our little girl. He was the first to hold her, the first to feed her (she was born by Emergency Cesarean Section so I missed these firsts), he was beside her as we were brought to our room in the hospital, he held her as Momma Bear recuperated after surgery.
They fight, they disagree, they clonk heads. A often favours Momma Bear, following me around like a lost little squirrel and comes to me first when she’s hurt, but Papa Bear is her best friend. I see their relationship getting stronger and stronger every day – the father daughter bond. I’ll admit I’m a bit jealous. He has a real positive connection with her. He bonded with her quicker than I did, and they are identical in looks and personality. They have special games that I can’t replicate. Hell, they even hate the same food… courgettes!
B can be classed as one of those Hands-On Dads. One of those Dads who surprises everyone when they realise he’s changed his fair share of diapers, fed, bathed and clothed her. He did his share of late night feeds, and still gets up to her more in the middle of the night than I do. Some would find it amazing that he reads books every single night with her, chooses clothes for her to wear, drops her off and picks her up from our childminder, encourages her to try new foods and did as much of the Potty Training as I did. I won’t ever call him a Hands-On Dad. B finds the term offensive. He’s a loving, caring and beautiful father who cherishes, respects and cares for his child. For B it’s a given that he would do this. He loves his daughter and wouldn’t think twice about being there for every and any moment she needs him. It’s in his job role as Papa Bear and as far as he’s concerned, A wrote that job description – what she wants or needs she gets because she’s the boss and will be for quite a while to come I reckon.
There’s a great post from The Butterfly Mother with a thank you to every Hands-On Dad which I just loved reading and I second her sentiment. Check it out, it’s really beautiful.
Part of B’s determination to be the best Dad he can be has landed him in a twisted fairytale of being suckered into A’s wants – I emphasise wants, not needs! This little toddlers desires are nine times out of ten fulfilled when she asks Daddy. I like to think I’m a bit more balanced or rather I’ve turned into The No Police. Today alone I watched A wrap her Dad around her dainty little finger and pull it tight. To be fair she didn’t have to try very hard. “How can you say no to that little face?” is usually what he says when I give him The Look. The look that says “I would have said no, for feck sake.” I fail miserably at veto-ing B (is that a word… it is now) after he’s agreed A can have or do something. We’re a team, somewhere in amongst the yes’s and the no’s, and to veto would not look good on either parenting party… even, or rather, especially to a two year old.
In the past ten hours, these are the ways A got Daddy, in the most innocent and politest of ways I might add, to succumb to the father daughter relationship and fail to say no.
As today is the first day off of our glorious week off from work we head out for breakfast with friends. A didn’t like her gourmet sausages and home-baked toasted bread. I insisted she must eat what she’s given… just the toast and I’d have been happy. No joy. So B empties the ham and mushrooms out of his omelette and she has her own little plate of goodness courtesy of Daddy’s now empty and bland omelette. Let’s face it, it’s just cheesy egg now.
After breakfast, back in the car, A asks for a Squishy Pop. A quick detour to Smyths Toy Store- 40 minute round trip – and she gets two new Mashems, one Squishy Pop and three Blind Bags. All from Daddy’s wallet which is clearly shrinking by the hour!
Three minutes to a penalty shoot out in the Switzerland and Poland game, A says she wants to watch Ella Enchanted. Unsurprisingly, Daddy obliges, turns off the football, and Ella Enchanted lights up our sitting room. Don’t think the football would be turned off for me.
Half an hour before dinner she asks for an ice pop. Mean Momma Bear says no, Papa Bear obliges and the two of them share ice pops, constantly swapping because A wants whichever one Daddy has.
It would be wrong of me to say that B is a pushover, he’s not and A is not spoilt. She doesn’t know that Daddy secretly wants to oblige and loves to see her happy. She doesn’t know that a yes is imminent. She has no plan to keep Daddy wrapped tightly. He loves her unconditionally. I secretly love that A and B have a special world, where they’re on the same page, love the same things, that he wants to make her happy and see her smile. She deserves the best and that he is!