Parenting Is Hard

Brooklyn with Daddy on a spring afternoon.

Parenting is hard. For those of you who do this as a single parent, I have mad respect for you. One of the things I'm battling with lately is attention. How does one father show attention to two little girls?

The tough part is, I see little Charlotte, staring back at me in her bassinet. She always smiles when I come over. She'll coo at me repeatedly, as if she's trying to tell me I'm her favorite. I seem to have a connection with this little one. Certainly more of a connection than I did with my first. Maybe it's because I'm not a terrified new dad? Maybe it's because I'm actually home for an extended period of time because of COVID. Whatever it is, I feel almost a certain obligation to foster that connection. I'm protective of that connection and helping this little girl grow up in a household where another child has already established her domain.

But then there is Brooklyn. My sweet Brooklyn. My first child. My wild, full of energy, strong willed baby girl who is growing up so fast. She wants to help with everything but refuses to do what she's told. She wants to play all day and then all night when it's time for bed. I look over at her, playing on her tablet, and I feel an obligation to remind her that Mommy and Daddy are still here. Her baby sister hasn't replaced her. I feel as though it's my job to protect this one. Protect her feelings and always tell her she's daddy's girl. It breaks my heart when everyone is head over heels looking at the baby while Brooklyn is standing behind and just wants an ounce of that attention.

Parenting is hard. I feel pulled in different directions. Both of my girls are my world. They mean everything to me. I couldn't be happier. But dang... this is a challenge. We'll get through it though. It's a good problem to have I suppose.

Baby Charlotte always smiling at Daddy.