I sat down with the grandkids a few days ago and watched some home movies of their mother as a baby. Daphne was about a year old when Bill and I bought our first video camera. The thing about home movies is that they really tell you a lot about yourself. Here is what I observed. I was a nut job.
At one point, I watched myself closely trying to figure out what I the heck I was doing. Daphne was sitting on the floor, because, let's face it, she never did much more than sit at the floor at that age. I was very close, almost hovering, but at the same time, kind of moving in a loose circle around her. Then it hit me. I was orbiting her! She had very little mass but an enormous gravitational pull, at least on me. I know that Bill was a good father, but clearly we were not on the same page about home movies. Poor Bill was in a lose/lose position. He was either the cameraman or the one with the baby.
If he was the cameraman and shifted off Daphne for even a second I was on it. I am sure at the time, I considered it a gentle reminder of our combined purpose in life of documenting every moment in our child's life. Now it sounds a lot like nagging. If he was the one with Daphne the only thing I ever said was "You're in the way. I can't see her." And yet for some reason, this man wanted to have a second child with me! I haven't had the guts to look at those movies yet.
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