Cassie took Colin on a dream trip to LEGOLAND this past week. That left Cailya with dear old dad. Every now and again, we split the kids up like this. It's an arrangement that works out for everybody. The kids have no one to argue with, plus they get the exclusive attention of one parent all to themselves. In fact, taking care of just one kid is so comparatively easy, I would even go so far as to say it is delightful.
So, while Colin was off meeting LEGO batman, I painted Cailya's nails, baked her apple oatmeal, and took her to the mall. As we walked through the mall, I noticed people looked at us with warmth and admiration. This is in stark contrast to the fear and disdain we usually receive as a family of four with two screaming toddlers. For some reason, people really seem to respond to the image of a father taking care of his daughter. I don't know if it's simply endearing to watch a grown man clumsily attempt to tie his daughter's hair into a ponytail, but there is something special about the relationship between a father and his daughter.
In many ways, raising a daughter is like a budding romance. There's the thrill when she reaches her hand out to grasp mine. There's the pride of taking her out and taking care of her. There's the inevitable emotional outbursts when I fail to meet her every expectation. I remember what friends said when they learned Cassie was pregnant with Cailya. "Oh you are going to adore having a little girl!" Daddy daughter weeks like these remind me that those friends were absolutely right.