When Good Girls Go Mad

by Melissa on November 23, 2010

It’s been a while since I’ve written.  (Blame the novel.  Or don’t blame the novel, just read it when it’s finished.)  A lot has happened.  Lily is speaking in three-word sentences — “Jake eat pasta” is a common one; “Man is gone?” a particularly clever way of saying she can’t find the man in the picture; and “Mommy do it” a highly recurrent theme.  Jake is displaying a sense of imagination — largely centered around a superhero he has named “Sportsman” — that blows me away.

But one thing that hasn’t happened, though I’ve been expecting it for a while, is Lily hitting her Daddy Phase.  Until this morning.

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I feel, at the outset, that I should be clear this story has nothing to do with my second child, despite being about Second Child Syndrome.  Or, at least, nothing directly.

But I do feel, rightly or wrongly, that my ability to walk away from my not-yet-four-year-old as he played with the toy train set in Barnes & Noble to check out the Mo Willems selections an aisle away stems directly from the fact that I have a second child and have been practicing such cavalier parenting for nearly nineteen months now.

Which doesn’t make me feel any better about the big, silent tears streaking Jake’s cheeks when I found him wandering around the escalators in search of his absent mother ten minutes later.

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