In my last post, I briefly discussed how I'm trying to spend a lot of quality time with Gavin before his brother arrives in a few weeks. You know, give him some extra attention and do a lot of fun things with him before all of my spare time is filled with changing diapers and washing spit-up out of my hair and off of my clothes. Oh, and not sleeping. That, too. He's definitely enjoying all of this "Mommy Time." He's eating it up. Unfortunately, he might be liking it a bit too much. The kid is stuck to me like glue. Not like Elmer's School Glue, but more like Crazy Glue. He's like my black lab in a sense. I could pet the dog all damn day, and he'd still act starved for attention. Starved.
Even though I spend the majority of the day giving Gavin my undivided attention, he still acts like I haven't given him enough. Especially once my phone rings or I have to make a phone call. The other night, we were sitting on the couch watching a movie together. We were snuggled up under a blanket, watching the movie, and he was in a movie-watching trance. My phone rang. At the time, Gavin was so engrossed in the movie that he didn't seem to notice. I quietly got up, went into the bedroom, and attempted to have a conversation.
Two seconds later, here comes Gavin, on his scooter, into the bedroom. He doesn't just come in to see where I am; he suddenly has something super important to tell me. And, he wants to jump on my bed while holding my hand. Even though he didn't notice I was alive two seconds ago during an intense scene from the movie, he suddenly can't live without me at this very moment - this very moment when I'm trying to have a brief adult conversation. I attempt to leave the room so I can actually have a conversation, and he grabs his scooter and follows me. I loathe that scooter by the way.
If that's the worst his attention-seeking got, I would be okay with that. But, it's usually much worse. If I'm sitting on the couch trying to talk on the phone - like the day I was calling the cable company - he'll come over, climb on my lap, climb on my head, whisper in my ear, jump on the cushion next to me, pull on my hands, bark like a dog, or start crying over some fictitious boo boo he miraculously acquired.
And, this doesn't just happen when I'm on the phone. The other day, I was trying to listen intently to my doctor as he explained the general idea behind how upcoming c-section should go. Mid-conversation, there's Gavin, pulling on my arm, crying because he can't get the Lightening McQueen coloring app to work on my iPhone. I tried to ignore him, but it was quite difficult to do since he was ramming his head into my rib cage.
I've tried many times to explain to him that he needs to wait to talk to me until I'm off the phone unless it's emergency - you know, if he's on fire or something. But, that appears to be going in one ear and out the other. In fact, I'm not even sure it's going in.
So, I'm thinking that when I suddenly have an infant whose needs will need my attention a majority of the time that things are going to get . . . interesting. Very, very interesting.
It’s (not) Flag Day.
1 day ago