I love to make fun of my kids constantly vying for my attention. That they will run right past daddy on the couch to trek upstairs and find me on the toilet.

But secretly? I love it.

I love being the default parent, even though it means more work. I love knowing that when they have a nightmare they will call out for me. Or when the lid to the applesauce is on too tight... or when they can't get their shoe on or the sock is creased inside.

I will roll my eyes. I will say something about "daddy's right here." But my heart swells a bit each time.

Oh, they love their daddy too. And daddy certainly gets his share of the workload. But when the going get's tough... they first name they call is "mom."

There was a brief time a few years ago when my first born only wanted daddy. He only wanted daddy carries. He only wanted daddy hugs. It almost broke me. It made me question everything in me as a mom. That phase came and slowly went, and I'm grateful.

Now, when I hear them calling out for me, I feel honored and grateful they go to me.

I might look slightly inconvenienced (especially when i'm sitting on the toilet). I might even mumble something about daddy being RIGHT THERE. But I love it. Inside I celebrate.

Because they want their mommy. They want me.

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