Our baby boy is seriously in love with me.
There’s a few theories we’ve got about this: one is that it’s a ‘boy thing’, one is that he can’t have my full attention all the time and therefore wants me more often, another is that it’s because I’m breastfeeding and he associates me with food, and therefore, ultimate happiness.
Whatever the reason, I have a tiny little shadow that follows me around all day. Sometimes he bursts into tears if I walk away from him. If he’s sad, he calls for me. (‘Mama! MAMAAAA!’) If I’m playing on the floor with Jellybean he tries to climb on my back like a little baby monkey. If he hasn’t seen me for a little while, he burrows his face into my neck and sighs with happiness.
Sometimes he lays on my belly and just gazes into my eyes and gives me a totally goofy, open-mouthed, four-toothed grin. (Often a bit of dribble plops out of his mouth onto my face, which is nice for me.)
I don’t know how to cope with these feelings.
On the one hand, of course, it’s totally exhausting. Jellybean was different as a baby: out and about, she would cling tightly onto me, never letting me out of her sight. But at home, she was quite independent. I used to love sitting back with a coffee and watching her play. And yes, she would happily snuggle up with me for hours (literally) reading books together, but she didn’t need me to carry her constantly.
Baby Boy is different. Baby boy is happy and confident and cheeky and likes to explore when we’re out and about. At home, I need to be in his line of sight at all times, at the very least. He stopped his brief stint of sleeping in his own bed for six or seven hours at a time. Night times are now a constant battle of him wanting to come into our bed and snuggle up next to me, and me wanting not to get cramps from laying in the same position all night long.
But I love it.
It’s ridiculous but I love it so much that it actually hurts a little bit. Because one day he will be a grown man and at that point, gazing into my eyes will be a little bit weird. So I’m trying to make the most of it.
I’ve used the phrase ‘second child syndrome’ quite a lot. Because frankly, in comparison to Jellybean, he gets ignored often. I’m also far more relaxed about things, which is why I find him emptying our tissue box and crawling under our table to reach the books and pulling CD’s from the shelves and instead of thinking ‘uh oh!’ I just think ‘… meh.’ If a few crumpled pages in a book buys me a moment’s quiet, I’m all for it.
But although he doesn’t get the Royal First Baby Treatment, he does get a lot of love from all of us.
Which is really the main thing babies need, right?