Sunday, August 21, 2011

Stuck on Mommy

If the separation anxiety that is going on at my house right now is any indication of future anxieties, I fear my daughter will have a standing appointment on some lucky therapist's schedule for eternity. My child is all eaten up with a serious case of The Mommy's right now and it is driving me crazy. I love her, I do. I wished for her and prayed for her. I did baby dances in the moonlight with a headdress made of rattles and booties (not really, but I would have if the doc told me it would work.) I dreamed of a little girl to call me mommy and love me more than life itself. I did not however have any notion of the intensity of THIS. THIS being crazy ass, I scream if I can't see you but know you are in the house separation anxiety. THIS being, I want to go back to the womb separation anxiety. THIS being please hold me until I don't want to be held then I will kick you and when you put me down I will cry again to be picked up separation anxiety. Anyone out there familiar? It is enough to drive a mama to drink. Or hit herself over the head with an anvil. Whichever is more readily available.

Let me reiterate. I love my Toodles. She is the light of my life. The reason I am alive. My sweet Lady Baby. But every once in while, I like to pee alone. Or check my email. Or fold laundry with two hands. I carried that child for 9 long months and I loved every minute of it. I did not realize that once she hit 18 months I would be carrying her again. This time on the outside and at her insistence, not because mother nature is forcing me to. Everyone knows how happy I was once Her Highness decided to ditch the crawling and become a toddler. I assumed (idiot) that she would now be walking most places. Joke's on me, per usual. That only meant she would walk when she wanted to. And not one step more. This means I get to carry her as she clings to me like a baby monkey. When I try to set her down upon reaching our destination, she holds her legs up instead of standing and hangs in the air, again baby monkey style. Frustrating at best, enraging at worst. Sometimes mama needs two arms. 

This may be common, I have no idea. This is my first child and therefore my first bout of separation anxiety. It is certainly something I did not plan on (I am sure you are familiar with the classic "not my baby, she's perfect, attitude"). I thought as she became more independent we would continue to move onward and upward. Er, wrong again, dummy. Instead it is two steps forward and then one step back, right into my lap. I assumed (idiot again) that as she got older she would get more self-sufficient. Are all you mommies out there laughing? It is okay, go ahead, I will allow it--BUT JUST THIS ONCE.  Instead, when she watches TV she wants me to sit beside her so she can lean on me. If I am anywhere near, she comes over and hangs on my legs. Her Majesty has become quite intense in her demands to be near me, close to me, on top of me, what-evs. As long as I am available to her at every moment. Groan. Lady Baby goes back to school next week, so I am hoping that will improve her need to be up my crawl 24/7. And it will allow me to get stuff done without my 28lb appendage. Yes, please. This summer has been great, but I think it coinciding with the normal time frame of toddler separation anxiety may have intensified things a lot slightly. Finger crossed for the easing of the MOMMY-I-WANT-TO-BE-YOUR-SIAMESE-TWIN thingy we gots going on over here.

I totally recognize the irony. When she is a teenager, bouncing out of the house with nary a look back at her old mom, I will long for the days of her hanging on me. Now she wants to be all up in my space. At some point, probably around age 13, I will want to be all up in her space. I will want to be her Siamese twin. I will want to be part of her every move. Someday I will long for the day she was a barnacle on my leg, riding along while I fix a snack or make the bed. I am trying to appreciate these moments of passionate mommy-devotion, because I know they are fleeting.  Hang on to that thought, I tell myself, when she is making me crazy town. Its just so hard to remember when she is on me like white on rice and I want to wear earplugs to stop the screaming. 

I may need constant reminders, and I apologize now if I slap you when you say it.


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