I Want Daddy
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One mother's journey of travel and reunion...
It had been 12 days since I last saw my daughter, except for the brief 18 hours I spent at home between trips, where eight of those hours were spent sleeping. I tried to enjoy my time away, especially the chance to rest after work, but the days started to drag on. Both my daughter and I were counting down the hours until we could see each other again. Time blurred together—days turned into nights, and nights into days.
Finally, the day arrived for me to board the plane back home. The countdown was almost over. As the engines roared to life, I hoped the noise would help me relax, but instead, all I could think about was getting home to my little girl. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Every time I checked my iPod to see the time, a small light briefly lit up the darkened cabin. I’d close my eyes, only to wake up a few minutes later, checking the time or finding something else to keep my mind occupied. Then, I felt the plane begin its descent. "Almost there," I whispered to myself. My foot tapped impatiently with excitement, and a huge grin spread across my face. Even though the moments still seemed to last forever, eventually the wheels touched down safely, and I knew my journey was almost over.
Exiting the plane and collecting my luggage went smoothly, which I was incredibly grateful for. Stepping out of the terminal, I was greeted by the familiar sight of my partner. His rugged charm never failed to take my breath away. He kissed me softly, his lips warm against mine. "Welcome home, love," he said, his voice smooth and comforting. I couldn't respond right away; my knees felt weak just looking at him. He always had that effect on me. He opened the car door for me, and I climbed into the cozy warmth of his freshly cleaned SUV. After the chilly airport air, the interior felt like a cocoon of comfort. The drive home was filled with laughter and love, but something was missing—my daughter.
Of course, my little girl couldn’t stay awake this late to greet me, but I still wanted to give her a goodnight kiss. Quietly, I tiptoed into her room and gently placed a kiss on her cheek. Her soft breathing reminded me of how precious every moment with her truly is.
The next morning, after my partner left for work, we spent the day cuddling, watching her favorite movies, and playing hide-and-seek. We laughed and ran from room to room, creating endless memories. Eventually, hunger got the best of us, and we headed downstairs to prepare a quick breakfast.
But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Ever since I got home, my daughter hadn't let me out of her sight. This continued as we descended the staircase. I carefully took the first step, then the second. Suddenly, we both tumbled to the bottom of the stairs. She was still clinging to me, tears streaming down her face. I was hurt, but I was also terrified for her. Through her sobs, she cried, "I want daddy!" I could only nod and whisper, "Me too."
After a few moments of reassurance and a call to her daddy, everything calmed down. Thankfully, besides a bruise on my backside and some wounded pride, we were both okay. Now, as I carefully descend the stairs while holding my daughter, I hear her sweet voice say, "Mommy, hold the rail." It’s a simple reminder, but it fills me with gratitude for this beautiful chaos of motherhood.
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