Saturday 5th July 2014
Its the weekend, Alhamdulillah, which means both Erroll and I get to play ‘house’ with each other and little Kingsley (who by the way is not so little anymore; he has topped 8 kilos). On days like these, when our family eats together, naps and bathes together, Erroll and I become even more besotted with our son than we could ever have imagined and allow him to cling to us like we should be another appendage of his.
Yes, we are truly attached parents. OK, as a mum it is easy to subscribe to attachment parenting: its a no brainer for me since I cannot get enough of my boy and must have him close to me, and also the fact that I have boobs that produce milk and most times all King wants is breast.
However to witness Erroll develop into a truly attached parent is breathtaking. You see Erroll lives a life that is made to nurture his son. Here is what attachment parenting looks like at Casa Hartley: An attached dad knows that carting a baby about means the use of baby carriers; no buggies for us. He parents Kingsley to sleep by lying down with him and telling silly stories. King and Erroll sing and dance in front of the mirror arm in arm, my whacky husband proudly showcasing his newest I-Tunes purchase. Erroll trusts that King will wean when he is ready (certainly not ready now at nearly 7 months of age).
As for work, Erroll has managed to get ample time away from flying to be with his son 24/7; carrying him to my office for twice-daily feeds and walking the length of greater metropolitan Dubai just to soothe or entertain him or get his to sleep. While I shower all I hear is our son heartily laughing out loud, for his dad knows that physical play, rough and tumble, does their bond great good.
An attached dad loves sharing the bed for afternoon naps (its a ritual at our place at any rate). And an attached dad sometimes needs a break and in turn understands that the attached mummabear sometimes needs one too.