Sunday, Maria and I are going to New York City for the day to see Robin. It’s been a month or so, and I can tell from the photos Emma sends me that Robin is changing. I need to get a look.

Robin has already transformed my relationship with Emma.

I think she needs to talk to me once in awhile about having a kid of her own. Things are settling down, Emma has gone back to work, Robin is in day care. I imagine that was a difficult day for my daughter. The week before, she lost Pearl, she loved that dog very dearly.

Emma doesn’t quite grasp it, I don’t think, but I am going to Brooklyn to see her as much as Robin.

Robin doesn’t need me much yet, Emma does, at least a bit. I think we balance each other out in some ways. A father is supposed to help make a child feel safe, I try to do that. I joke with her often that I’m sorry she didn’t quite get the father she deserved, a saner, more predictable one.

My move to the country and my divorce disrupted our relationship somewhat, it is returning of its own volition.

Robin has certainly helped that. I have no illusions that Robin will know or remember me much at this point, but I do feel a pull to see her and stay in touch with her and try to be supportive of Emma.

I make my daughter nuts sometimes, and I will do my best to subvert law and order in the household.

I trawled the Internet for two rattles that bark, whistle whirl,sing,  light up, spin and record voices. They were not easy to find. That will delight Robin I am sure and make everyone crazy.

The other night I said we ought to meet soon at the Bronx Zoo, we’ll drive down and meet them there, and I could tell Emma was shocked and wary. Let’s wait a year until she knows what an animal is, she wisely suggested. Oh, let’s go sooner, I said, she will love it there.

Emma didn’t remember, but I did, that I took her to the Bronx Zoo when she was seven or eight months old. I had already taken her to Disney World and she has no memory of either experience. But I swear her eyes popped out of her head when she saw an elephant and a baby goat in the petting zoo. Excitement is contagious.

Was I insane to take her to these places (some movies too) when she was so young? I suppose so, but it felt good and it was fun, and I imagine she soaked that up in one way or another. She sure seemed happy, even if she didn’t have words yet.

Maybe I can spring Robin for a trip on Sunday, something close and less ambitious. Emma is dubious. We’ll see.

Sadly, you can’t pick your father, I said.