Cora’s figuring out pecking orders, and lately I seem to be the third person in line for her affections. First comes Daddy, then comes Grandma, and then comes me. Grandma and I actually alternate, I think, in terms of who takes position 2 behind Daddy. Cora will drop everything to go to Daddy; will cry and wail if Daddy comes into the room and doesn’t immediately pay attention to her; gets horribly upset if he leaves her sight. Grandma and I, well, we rate, but we’re just not Daddy.
The way that Cora’s affections work, if a higher ranking person is available, there’s no concept of sharing the love. Oh, occasionally she’ll drop a bone here and there, and go to a “lower-ranked” person for a moment, but she’ll quickly return her attention to the person higher in the pecking order. (Sounds like office politics, doesn’t it?) That means frustration both for the lower-ranking person and occasionally for the higher-ranking one who’s unable to peel away.
Tonight, after discovering I was in position 3 when picking up Cora from Grandma, I felt pretty hurt. Questions of: would it be different if I were home all the time, what am I doing that’s so different, why does Daddy win out – all went through my mind on the drive from Grandma’s to our home. I’m hoping to end up reconciling it with myself with a couple of points. The first is that Cora has lots of people to love because lots of people love her, and that’s a wonderful thing, regardless of where we all stack up in her current pecking order. The second I’ve forgotten because it still smarts that I’ve got to be an adult and forget about the “who’s loved by her best” kind of mental contest. She still loves to be held by her mommy, so long as her daddy isn’t around as an alternative. The third is that two days a week, mommy is around and daddy isn’t around as an alternative until he gets home from work, at which point its wonderful that Cora wants her daddy so that mommy can take care of other things.
Tonight I did make sure to work the system, though, so that I got my Cora-fix. Usually I come pick up Cora and then make dinner. We talk and coo, but I can’t hold her and play with her and still manage to get dinner on the table. So, dinner waited. (We had leftovers in the fridge, anyway.) And we played and cuddled and I got my mommy fix in until Daddy walked in the door. And then I made dinner and got the dishes done, since my hands were suddenly not needed for baby duty.