Sweet Nothings

With all the kid sadness going around lately, I just want to pinch my little guy's cheeks to red and plant kisses all over his round little face. Which is not so round anymore since the baby fat rolls are gone. But, he won't let me hold or cuddle him anymore. On rare occasion that I manage to land a few smooches, he wipes them off and tells me that I am not to give him any more kisses.


"We'll, see big talker. Not such a big boy when you wake up in the middle of the night crying for mommy, are ya!?" (Actually, that doesn't happen anymore, either.)

I just have to face it, the baby is all-grown up. He's big enough to take advantage of our weakness for his persuasive charms. Like when he needs help climbing a tree -- a new passion-- he'll play the "I need help 'cuz I'm just a little guy" card. Loves to call himself "little guy." (Is manipulation instinctive for pretty people?)

My big/little guy has a hairdresser and her name is Jessica. She's this pretty little thing that gives her FULL attention and laughs at his jokes. Its a big day at our house when he gets a haircut. I can twist his arm to get whatever I need, lest I threaten to cancel. This last time, I assumed my usual position next to him in the chair. And he told me "Mommy, just go sit over there," pointing, no, dismissing me to the waiting area. (Do all men instinctively gravitate to eye-candy?)

Little Guy is a nude monger. He strips himself completely bare at nap time and calls himself "Naked Baby." He then proceeds to make requests in the third person. "Naked Baby needs his blanky. Naked baby needs you to close the closet door. Tell Naked Baby a story about when you were little." But don't you call him a baby or you'll get told. (OK, I get that being naked is fun when there's no shame in your game.)

I've been down lately about my house still not being put back together from Ike. There are still a few projects that stand between "complete" and where we are now. And there have been days that I can't remember taking the time to play or laugh with my boy. Some days are a blur of harsh words, timeouts, and spankings.

I must remind myself that I can't get today back or whatever day it was that I moped around my house too spent to do anything productive. We're all healthy. MMA is gainfully employed. I adore those two. And I am just really thankful for everyday things like fussing over my healthy, egotistical little boy.

(Who just asked "Mom, could you go get some goodies from the goody bowl and share 'em with your little one." How can I say "no" to that?) Maybe I can trade him some candy for the option to run my fingers through his curls.