#8 has entered the “daddy stage.” The phase of his life when he has the unusually strong yearning for his father’s attention; especially the kind that comes in the form of being held. Now that could be because he finds that Wife’s pregnant belly gets in his way, and I, well not nearly as soft, at least provide a flat surface. So the little boy toddles up to me and does his best to follow when I’m home. And that reminds me, I really need to fix the latch on the bathroom door.
#8 is not a clingy child by any means. He derives attention and entertainment from his siblings in equal amounts. Stumbling along with their games, and if they laid out a board game, well then he is as quick to make a mess of it as a tornado in a trailer-park. But then he remembers that dad is home, and there he goes. If I am working on something in the front yard, he might scream at me from the porch until I acknowledge him. If I’m relaxing in the house, he’ll try to crawl into my lap. If I’m writing in my office, he’ll simply push open the door. That’s another door I need to fix.
He won’t be in this stage for very long, none of the children were. In a few months he’ll become even more mobile and able to keep up with his older siblings. Even more importantly, he’ll have a fighting chance when his brothers wrestle with him. I won’t get forgotten, but he will have much more to distract him.
Knowing that this time will fly by, I try not to get distracted myself. But at the same time, I have had the blessing of seven other children to go through the “daddy stage” with and at least one more on the way. That means that I have been able to enjoy each child without the worry that I will miss anything.
And with that is mind, I have no regrets about jamming the door shut to give myself a little quiet.