Posted in Family Tradition, Parenting, Wins

I Got It From My Daddy

“Mummy, I don’t like you. Go away!”

“Do you want me to go away? Will you stay with daddy by yourself?”

Thinks for a moment.

“I like you to sleep with me”


“I like to cuddle with you and sleep. I don’t like you when I wake up”

So she needs me for her naps and bedtime but she prefers dad for play.

“Why is that?”

“Dada lets me stay in the bath longer”

That was a couple of days ago. I’ve heard this a few times this week. Last night, I was out at drinks with my work mates. R’s dad picked her up and took her to Hanaichi for a meal of chicken and rice. While eating, she apparently said,

“Daddy, mummy doesn’t bring me here. I like you. I don’t like mummy”

I’m beginning to understand what people mean when they say you’re doing something right when your teenager kids hate you. I hadn’t quite been able to relate to that until now. The threenager in this household is teaching me things I was not expecting to learn for at least another ten years. Yet, here we are.

On the bright side, she stopped one of the neighbours on the stairs when they got home and told her,

“My dada doesn’t know how to do Anna hair (i.e. two braids). My mummy can do it”

Aha! Drum rolls! Trumpets! Louder!

If she were doing our performance appraisals and handing out roles, it would go like this:

Mummy takes care of my needs and does it well. She can be my mummy. She can braid my hair, buy me twirly dresses, feed me vegetables and make me sleep.

Daddy lets me do fun things and buys me chicken & rice. He lets me stay longer in the bath, he sings and plays music with me, he lets me watch TV. He can be my best friend.

I’ve said in the past that I wanted to be the fun parent but ended up being the one that disciplines the kid. The consolation prize is knowing that I am, at least, doing it right. Daddy can be the fun parent and entertain her while mummy goes out gallivanting with friends. It even sounds like the perfect arrangement to me now. The Universe has a way of dealing out the right cards for everyone.

So, while they listen to the same song for the 363rd time and eat breakfast, I get to drink coffee in bed and do my blog. Perfect arrangement? Can’t complain.

This week’s favourite songs:

(Dad) Marble Sounds: Leave the light on

(R) Despicable Me: I’m having a bad bad day

Before that, we listened to endless repeats of

(Dad) Psy: Where did you get your body from

(R) Frozen: Let it go

It looks like we may be in for a change next week because I hear this happening in the kitchen right now, just after a new song finished playing

“I didn’t like this song. Did you?”

“Why, daddy?”



I used to wonder whether I could ever be a parent. Then I became one. I was handed a delicate little bundle that I was terrified of bringing home. I didn't know how to be a parent and I was sure 'winging it' was not the right way to do it. Little did I know at the time that there is no right way. The baby knew what she wanted and all I had to do was figure it out along the way. As she grows up, she helps me learn what I need to know... I just need to pay attention to her.

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