Max's first crush

♬ “Know you got it bad when you’re out with someone but you keeping on thinking about somebody else …” ♬
A little throwback Usher to celebrate my bitty boy’s very first crush. Y’all, my babe has it bad: He sobs when she’s away, and he wants to hang 24/7. It’s sweet and whatnot, but, truth be told, he’s kinda clingy. I mean, bitty boy’s sweetheart can’t pee or sleep or shop for groceries without being cuddled and loved. Sound familiar? If you’ve got a baby with separation anxiety then you know what I’m talking about. Oh yes, you’ve probably figured it out by now, but that crush? It’s me—his mama. Max+Mom=♥
Have you ever heard someone complain about being loved a little too much? It’s a fine problem, indeed, but um … could I maybe take a shower right quick? Get the mail? Never mind leaving the housing or making it to my doctor / dental / hair appointment. Is that how it feels to date a clingy high school girl? You know, the type that wants you around after football practice and always checks your phone? Or, actually, I think modern couples have apps that track one another? Good thing bitty boy doesn’t know about that yet …
So anyway! I’m getting all kinds of loved, and that’s the benefit of a boy with a big ol’ crush. The negative? Separation makes him scream. I’m not talking about separation like I went away for the weekend or had brunch with the girls—no, I’m talking about being in the driver’s seat while he’s rear-facing in the back. Bitty boy can’t see me, and, y’all, that is a problem worthy of mega tears. MOMMMMMM! Driving now terrifies me. How do I make it to Target without Max turning the backseat into Niagara Falls? Help!
It’s a false victory when I actually make it to Target. I park my SUV like the victor valiant—waving my imaginary “I MADE IT!” flag—and make a mental checklist of all the things I need to buy. But once Max goes into the shopping cart? Mamas, I gotta whole new set of problems. I take one step then two, and—you guessed it—the sound I dread the most: WAAHHHH! MOMMMM!!
Do you see the problem here? Max wants to be held. The distance between us (him in the cart and me pushing it) is simply too much. And y’all, we just got here! Not like I can turn around ‘cause then I’ll be dealing with the car-separation again.
Max goes out of the shopping cart and into my arms, and the new arrangement makes him smile like it’s his birthday. (Actually, he was not smiling much after that swim through my canal—too graphic?) I hold my 25-pound baby in one arm and push a shopping cart loaded with diapers, wipes, toilet paper and chicken in the other. At least I don’t need a gym membership anymore.
I’m very tired when we get home. Very tired indeed. But you know what? There’s no rest for me. Our separation anxiety extends to the crib, so in our house Max only sleeps—you guessed it—on me. I take my bean into my arms, crawl into bed, and then kiss his sweet head. His rosy cheeks and button nose warm my heart, and my man beams at me with eyes full of love.
You know what? I’ve got it pretty bad for Max, too. And so, back to Usher for how I feel about my bitty boy …
♬ “You found somebody that makes you change your ways, you got it bad …” ♬