Addicted to Love

Published Date: June 20th, 2008
Category: Weekly Thought



Might as well face it, I’m addicted to love.


The love of my 3-year old son, that is.


I have had few addictions in the past. Only one and smoking cigarettes is not a glamorous addiction. I kicked it (kind of) but still feel like there are two types of people in life: those who crave cigarettes and coffee (me) and those who don’t (people I don’t know). With that said, this addiction is a bit alarming to me because I now think I have become one of THOSE MOTHERS who breed little boys who cannot live without their mamas who then become big boys who cannot live without their mamas.


What is a sassy girl to do? Especially after today’s heart-wrenching and gratifying conversation.


Me: Someday, little boy, when you are grown up you will no longer want to hang out with your Mama.


G: I will always want to hang out with MY MAMA.


Me: Not when you are old. When do you think you will be old?


G (with no hesitation): When I am 24. I will have a wife named Tuba and a baby boy named Frederick.


Me: Really? Where will you live?


G: In the basement, of course, silly Mama.


I have no answer because I am overcome with palpitations of joy. Of course he will live in the basement with Tuba and Frederick. What a lovely life. He will never want to leave his Mama.


I took him to his old daycare for one day last week and spent most of it wishing I could just smell his hair.


I have only been home with him for 6 weeks. I am in big trouble. 


I think it is because I have this unfortunate ability to understand the concept of time and how short it really is. Today while we were at The Museum of Science and Industry, I stood behind G and the sight of his little body clutching the railing as he eagerly whipped his head back and forth to watch the progression of “The Jollyball” almost brought me to tears. I had a vision of him in ten years, hopefully still a happy boy, but taller and lithe, no longer jumping in front of me with his little arms flailing in the air claiming,


“Uppy! Uppy!”


but on this trip to the museum, he would be the older child, patiently waiting to the side of the railing so the little children could see.


And that is what brought me to tears. That in the blink of an eye, he will no longer be my little child, but a grown boy and then a grown man.


So because of these visions, I hold him close to me. I smell his hair about five times a day and clutch onto his hot little hand whenever he lets me. I know that I am in the process of turning him into a Mama’s boy, but the reality of it is, in less than three months he will be entering preschool, so any harm I do will be short-lived.


Or, I will just need to find a new addiction.



This entry was posted on Friday, June 20th, 2008 at 11:12 am and is filed under Weekly Thought. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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