Usually I love the one who is not crying the most. Though, ironically, the crying usually requires me to pay attention to them more, which means, paradoxically, if you are what you spend on your time on, that I love the one who is crying more. But that cannot be true because I do not love crying. I'll say it again. Usually, I love the one who is not crying.
Sometimes however, the one who is crying will be sick, or have fallen down, in which case, I love the one who is crying more, because I can see that they need it or are fragile. In less of course they go on crying well past what the fall or sickness warrant, in which case, though I am spending time with them I am usually loving the one who is not crying more wherever they've gotten off to.
Sometimes, neither one of them will be crying, and I will love them almost equally, though I usually love the one who is interacting with me more, because, despite marriage and children etc. I still believe myself to be the center of the world. Though sometimes, even when they're not crying, I will love the one who I am not interacting with more. Because sometimes the one I am interacting with will ask me to read fifty books in a row, in which case, though I am interacting with them, I am not loving it. Other times, the one who is not crying will be eating the head of a toy giraffe and smiling at me, and I will be filled with love for that child. Though that love is complex, because sometimes when the child is chewing the giraffe I'll take that opportunity to read a book or unload the dishwasher, or take out the trash, and I will wonder if it can be said that I am really loving the child if I'm only using their passivity to do other tasks. And, in fact, perhaps I am loving the other child more when I am reading them fifty books because at least I am paying attention to them. Love is complex in that way.
Sometimes, both of them will be crying, and I will find that though I love them, their crying diminishes its quantity. I am fickle, and I hope that they can't see that, but I am sure that at least one of them can, which makes me sad, but not sad enough to stop wanting them to always be good and kind and quiet when I need to rest. Sometimes I will find myself reading a book to both of them, and I will love them both equally for a few pages or so, until the one starts to eat the book or the other one tries to take the book away to have it read without the interference of the one who is trying to eat the book, and I will find my love oscillating back and forth between the two of them.
Often I love them the most when they are asleep, and I am allowed to reflect on how wonderful they are when they are awake. It is often hard to reflect on how wonderful they are when they are awake, because they require a lot of attention, which precludes reflection and causes me to want to try and play games that involve me napping. I think you know what I mean. Sometimes I will sneak with s into their bedrooms when they are sleeping, and I will peer down at their precious little sleeping forms, and I will be filled with love for them, and I will want to wake them up just to tell them, but I refrain, because I know that sooner or later one of them will be crying, and I'll be forced to consider again, just who I love the most.
Sometimes however, the one who is crying will be sick, or have fallen down, in which case, I love the one who is crying more, because I can see that they need it or are fragile. In less of course they go on crying well past what the fall or sickness warrant, in which case, though I am spending time with them I am usually loving the one who is not crying more wherever they've gotten off to.
Sometimes, neither one of them will be crying, and I will love them almost equally, though I usually love the one who is interacting with me more, because, despite marriage and children etc. I still believe myself to be the center of the world. Though sometimes, even when they're not crying, I will love the one who I am not interacting with more. Because sometimes the one I am interacting with will ask me to read fifty books in a row, in which case, though I am interacting with them, I am not loving it. Other times, the one who is not crying will be eating the head of a toy giraffe and smiling at me, and I will be filled with love for that child. Though that love is complex, because sometimes when the child is chewing the giraffe I'll take that opportunity to read a book or unload the dishwasher, or take out the trash, and I will wonder if it can be said that I am really loving the child if I'm only using their passivity to do other tasks. And, in fact, perhaps I am loving the other child more when I am reading them fifty books because at least I am paying attention to them. Love is complex in that way.
Sometimes, both of them will be crying, and I will find that though I love them, their crying diminishes its quantity. I am fickle, and I hope that they can't see that, but I am sure that at least one of them can, which makes me sad, but not sad enough to stop wanting them to always be good and kind and quiet when I need to rest. Sometimes I will find myself reading a book to both of them, and I will love them both equally for a few pages or so, until the one starts to eat the book or the other one tries to take the book away to have it read without the interference of the one who is trying to eat the book, and I will find my love oscillating back and forth between the two of them.
Often I love them the most when they are asleep, and I am allowed to reflect on how wonderful they are when they are awake. It is often hard to reflect on how wonderful they are when they are awake, because they require a lot of attention, which precludes reflection and causes me to want to try and play games that involve me napping. I think you know what I mean. Sometimes I will sneak with s into their bedrooms when they are sleeping, and I will peer down at their precious little sleeping forms, and I will be filled with love for them, and I will want to wake them up just to tell them, but I refrain, because I know that sooner or later one of them will be crying, and I'll be forced to consider again, just who I love the most.
I love this the most.
ReplyDeleteenjoy these moments because time moves quickly and
ReplyDeletesoon they will not require your presence for reading or nap time
just continue to share the love through good times and bad..