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Attached at the Hip

Simon is now in the full throes of separation anxiety. This developmentally normal phase is alternately cute and tiresome, thrilling and exhausting.

I am Simon’s entire world, or at the very least his very most favorite person within it. When I laugh at him, he laughs. If I seem upset, he will, too. What’s more, he can be quietly content in a room with someone else, only to become audibly excited if I enter the room and then loudly destitute when I leave again.

One the one hand, this is quite an ego boost. No one else loves me like this, and unless I have another child, no one else ever will. Then again, it’s also exhausting, as I am the cure for all that ails him. Teething pain? Let mama make it feel better. Tummy trouble? Mama again. Bored? Here’s mama to play. Sad? Mama will hold you. Hungry? Come to mama.

Mama, mama, mama, mama, mama!

Further complicating this situation are my mixed feelings about being away from Simon myself. For while I’d surely lose my mind if I didn’t have my mom, Evie, and Emily to help me-and while many days I wish they could come more often or stay longer-at the end of a babysitting shift, I’m always eager to get my hands on Simon. And if I have help many days in a row, I get really hungry for him. Sad? Make Simon laugh. Anxious? Hold Simon. Tired? Lay down next to sleeping Simon. Bored? Blog about Simon.

Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon!

I know this phase will pass, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Simon will be the one to pull away first. So I think I’m going to sit back and enjoy the adulation before Simon decides he’s too cool to be demonstrative with his mother.

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