Sometimes something will be on my mind, upsetting me, and I'll tell Kendrick about it, and even as the words are coming out of my mouth I'll know what the answer is. One of the best side-effects about writing a blog is that it has made me work much, much harder to figure out the reality behind situations that can feel unmanageable - both because I spend a lot of time circling around issues in my head, making sure I've unpacked them completely, before ever sitting down to write...and also because I answer lots and lots of reader questions here that have forced me to go back and explore similar situations from my own past in an attempt to figure out what was really going on.
I know exactly what's going on with this thing that's on my mind. But knowing what's going on and being able to understand it on a deep-down level are two different things.
I love watching my son and my husband playing. I love how much they love each other; I love what an incredible father Kendrick is; I love how completely obsessed Indy is with every single thing that Kendrick says and does. But in the past couple of weeks something new has happened, and it's that my son no longer wants very much to do with me when his dad is around. He wants daddy to pick him up, wants daddy to play with him; he cries when Kendrick takes so much as a step into the other room, and having me hold him instead doesn't seem to be a comfort. When Kendrick isn't around it's totally business as usual - snuggling, lots of "lah doo Mama"s (that's "love you" in two-year-old-speak), laughing and playing and wonderful...but when Kendrick comes back, my son jumps straight out of my arms and into my husband's.
