Last night was Party for Girls while Beloved met a friend for dinner. Over macaroni and cheese, the little angel sprung it on me. "Mommy," she said, "do you love Daddy more than me?"
You have these moments, as a parent, when your child asks you a question and you have a split second to decide whether to give the long explanation, the short explanation, avoid the question, or tell her you learned it all in college. I went for short.
"I love you differently," I said.
"But I want you to say who you love best," she said, her chin starting to quiver. I knew she wanted me to say I loved her best. I remember asking my mom similar questions, desperately needing someone to love me BEST. I remember how desperately you need your mother's love as a child, and even as an adult. It's primal.
"I know you do, honey," I said. "Just know there is no other baby duck for me in the whole world. You will always be my baby duck. No one else."
She slid her chair over at the table, as close as she could possibly get. She crawled into my lap, buried her nose in my neck, trying to climb back inside where I could keep her warm and loved. I don't know what brought it all on last night. She hadn't had a bad day at school. Things have been normal; we haven't been fighting with each other, none of us. I do think she's about to turn five, she recently stopped wearing Pull-ups at night, we've been telling her over and over how she's almost a school-ager, such a big girl, and God, that can be scary. Even now, having someone tell you it's time to grow up can be scary. What if we fail? What if nobody likes us anymore? What if we don't measure up?
After dinner, we got out a mini-bowling set Blondie gave me a trillion years ago and bowled with a marble and ten tiny pins on the dirty, gross kitchen floor. She kept trying to cheat, to slide closer than the established starting line, grinning at me slyly. She's growing beautiful, my girl, to the extent that Costco employees now wish me luck with "a beauty like her." No matter how lovely she grows as a teenager and an adult, I will always remember last night, when she shook with insecurity and came to me to fix it. No matter how rebellious she gets, I will remember bowling on the grubby floor with her, keeping the world and its realities at bay with a blue marble. I will always treasure knowing how much she loves me, how important I am to her, how important she is to me. It takes my breath away.
I love them best.
