Comfort

I'm pretty sure Lyla is teething. The time is right, she's drooling like a St. Bernard, and everything she finds in her hands ends up in her mouth. Plus, she's crabby. It sort of sucks. Then Julie comes home, and wouldn't you know Lyla's mood improves a bit.

Hey, I'm comforting the kid the best I can. "No pain, no gain! Shake it off! Rub some dirt in it!"

Moms are not inherently more nurturing than dads. However, I wonder how many of us remember getting hurt or sick as a kid and screaming "I want my daddy!" Not many. Why is that?

Breasts! No, hear me out. See, for babies who are breastfed, the breast is the first object that the baby associates with comfort and safety. Dads can't compete, not that it's a competition. As time fast-forwards, I suspect it becomes a pattern, with the child then associating the mother with comfort. It's not that the child doesn't think of the dad too, but in the direst moments, they think of Mom first.

Wimps.