Soon...

so... the hubby is coming home soon. There's a sense in me of excitement, anxiety, nerves and fear all at once. I can't wait for him to come home because he hasn't seen our baby since she was 5 weeks old and I want to see the look on his face when he sees how big she's gotten and she flashes him that million-dollar smile of hers. I'm equally interested in seeing her reaction when she actually gets to see him in person for the first time in 7 months. She constantly looks at the wallpaper on my computer and I sit with her and tell her, "That's right, mama, that's DADDY!!!" On the rare opportunity that our schedules align long enough for us to have a conversation on Skype, she sits in front of the computer monitor, studying him. Then, in what can only be described as a sudden moment of realization, she remembers this person who held her non-stop for the 10 too-short-and-too-quickly-gone days that they spent together back in October and... oh, there's that smile again! Sometimes I leave the room and leave the two of them there to share some daddy-Marley time and she'll honestly have whole conversations with him. The entirety of which I imagine consist of her venting her frustrations to him on how mommy takes too long getting the milk ready. But I long for the moments when I'll be able to step back and actually watch them interact with each other. I am looking forward to helping these two people who rarely know each other bond. It's inevitable that I will eventually fall by the wayside of the father-daughter/daddy's-little-girl relationship. But that's okay. I'm still mommy. And she and I have had our time together on our own. Soon, it'll be daddy's turn. I'll be home the 2 weeks after he gets back to spend time with my husband and daughter and learn, finally, how to be a family... the three of us. But then, I go back to work, and he has 90 days before he has to... so that will be HIS time. I can't wait.