Lead image for The unexpected joy of letting others love your child.
Early this week, I found myself doing one of my favourite things: scrolling through my phone gallery and smiling at the hundreds of photos of my two-year-old. Between the videos of him dancing and blurry action shots of him running away from me, I realised the little guy has quite the social life.
There are photos of pretend motorbike rides with Uncle K, who lets him “drive” while making exaggerated engine noises; videos of animated conversations with Uncle G about...well, I honestly have no idea what they discuss, but both seem fully invested; of aunties who never arrive empty-handed; cousins who become human jungle gyms; and grandparents who somehow have the patience for answering the same question five times in a row.
It dawned on me that my child was getting love from all sides. Surprisingly, it wasn’t always easy to embrace that idea. As a first-time mum, I remember the anxiety of leaving my four-month-old with the nanny when I had to return to work.
I thought I was the only person who truly understood my baby; the one who knew what every cry meant; the only one who could comfort him properly. Well...his dad and I. You get the idea…
Read: The simple parenting classes helping fathers win back their children's hearts
Returning to work wasn’t optional because bills are no respecter of baby blues. Every day I got to work, hyper-focused and dashed back home. In my mind, my baby was counting down the minutes until mummy returned. I was wrong.
One afternoon, I finished work unusually early, excited at the thought of surprising him. I imagined how his face would light up as I opened the door, arms outstretched, joyful squeals, overwhelming relief that his favourite person was home.
I walked in just after he had finished a bottle of milk. He took one glance at me and clung to his nanny. A full-body, “please-don’t-make-me-leave-this-wonderful-woman” kind of cling. The betrayal!