I Just Wanna Be Mad for Awhile

Nicholas is my baby. Of that there is no doubt. We have the bond that I knew was missing with my first-born. He loves his daddy, and often wants to go play with him. He adores his grandparents, especially his grandpa, and I love that my in-laws (er, MIL) watch the boys during the week. But Nick and I have a very special bond.

Just like with Gabe, I adored him from the moment he was born, but this time it was equally reciprocated. When he woke up crying he wanted Mama, and he still does. For him I feel like I top his list of favorite people, whereas with Gabe I often feel as though I’m an after thought. Oh look, it’s Mommy. I like Mommy (although he was really happy when I surprised him by showing up to his swim lesson this morning).

So it should come as no surprise that I was a little hurt on Sunday when Nick was mad at me. It should also come as no surprise that my toddler knew exactly what to do to show he was mad at me. Oh Mommy loves my attention and hugs and kisses, well, I will give it all to Daddy.

You see, I had committed the unforgivable act of putting him in his crib when it wasn’t time to sleep because I didn’t want him pulling the books off the bookshelf that I had just picked up for the 11 millionth time while trying to get ready to get out the door. He persisted in pulling books off, not to read, just to get a reaction, so I put him in his crib until I was finished getting dressed and was ready to dress him.

He spent a good deal of the rest of the day ignoring me. Calling for only Daddy. Running up and cuddling Daddy and then giving me evil looks (okay, I might be imaging the evil looks), and basically just letting me know that he wasn’t happy with me. He had forgiven me by bedtime, but still I was hurt that he could hold a grudge like that for that long over something small like having to sit in his crib full of stuffed animals, and a glowworm that sings.

Glad he didn't stay mad for too long, because I was missing my cuddly baby.