To say that Happy Fun baby is going through a clingy phase is an understatement. Currently he is sleeping on my chest. If I set him down, he wakes up and wails. Back patting is only a temporary solution; the minute I step away his eyes pop open and the crying resumes.
Setting him down to play elicits a similar reaction. Playing? By himself? What crazy kind of baby torture is this? The irony is that he’s more mobile than ever, able to manipulate objects and move himself from place to place with ease. Not actually crawling; more creeping, with a side of bounce. Also, he’s all sorts of alert. His toys have become suddenly fascinating. Things to which he was utterly indifferent a mere two weeks ago can hold his attention for ten or fifteen minutes at a time. We got him these fabulous interlocking foam squares with bright alphabet shapes to use as a play mat; he loves them unreasonably, yet if one of us is not down on the floor with him? There is screaming.
He’s right on the verge of throwing tantrums. He flattens out on the floor and extends all his limbs and cries as though we’re killing him. Heart-rending – he sounds like a wounded cat – but at the same time kind of funny. I think this because I am a bad mother.
The rest of the time, Happy Fun Baby is both happy and fun. This morning I got up to go to the bathroom; I heard a yell (not an angry yell, more of a “Hey, I’m awake!”) and looked into the bedroom. The baby was up on all fours, and when he saw me his whole face cracked into a huge grin. This is what I wake up to every morning. This is why I am considering becoming a morning person.
It’s funny – I have a million and one things I need to do (school, housework, laundry, etc.) but sitting on the couch with a baby crashed out on top of me is the only one that seems to be important.