Stage 5 Clinger

At first we called her a mama's girl. Then we decided it was stranger danger. And now, well now she's officially a full-blown, stage 5 clinger. I'm referring, of course, to Gabby Grace.

Cute, huh? Until you try to take her from her mama...

For awhile I thought it was due to breastfeeding for 11 months. But when that stopped and her wanting ways continued, there went that excuse. Then I figured it was just a stranger anxiety phase. But when she screamed like her hair was on fire when her grandma who lives with us tried to hold her, there went that theory. Now, I've come to accept I have a stalker. Everywhere I go, she follows me. When I enter the room, she stops whatever she's doing and stares me down. She hasn't started texting and emailing me constantly yet, but I've seen her pressing buttons on the iPad so it's probably not far off.

I kid, I kid. I would be lying if I said I didn't like it a littlle, OK a lot. When I told someone about Gabby's obsession with me, the response was what this person thought was a rhetorical question: "Don't you hate that?" After I thought for a beat, I answered: "No, actually, I love it." Hey, I carried this kid for 9 months, endured the labor, breast-fed non-stop for nearly a year and bear the mommy marks to prove it all. The fact that Gabby tries to make me feel like the only woman on earth just proves how smart she is.

But I feel bad for the others. Especially her dad. And grandma who was greeted by a very unfriendly screech when she went to get Gabby out of her crib the other morning. Grammy reaches her arms out. Gabby hangs onto me for dear life. Grammy tries to woo Gabby with her sweet talk. Gabby scowls. Grammy bribes Gabby with food. Gabby obliges, sometimes. But for the most part if Gabby ain't with mama, ain't nobody happy:

The pros of Gabby being a clinger: (Feeling loved and getting to love on my baby all the time go without saying)

-Huge biceps (OK, mediocre biceps) from carrying her all. the. time.
-An excuse not to ride the Ferris Wheel at the Fair. "Sorry, gotta hold the baby."
-Great weight loss plan as I can only get two bites in before she cries for me to hold her at dinner.
-Getting good at being stealth to avoid her seeing me. Just call me undercover mother.

-Never asking anyone to babysit unless absolutely necessary
-My two bite meal plan
-Lack of ability to use the bathroom in peace
-Hurts other's feelings

I realize this won't last forever. It'll probably be a blip in the highlight reel someday. So for now, I'll just enjoy my cute little clinger while she lasts. And let's be honest, occasionally flexing in front of the mirror.

When Mom Joins Facebook

Have you ever had the privilege of watching someone else scroll through Facebook out loud? Lucky for me (since my mom is also my roommate) I have. And because I could not stop laughing as she did so, I started to take notes on the computer. Hopefully you will appreciate the humor as much as I did. Keep in mind, my mom is quite possibly the sweetest person in the world, and if she's your friend on Facebook, she's commented on something you've posted. So keep all those pictures of babies comin! Crazy Jan learned how to type hearts and now she has a whole cheat sheet of emoticons in her laptop bag, and she's prepared to use them.

Things my mom said while scrolling through Facebook:

"I'm not sure that is a good idea, you guys. You're going to be at the emergency room."

(Turns computer sideways) "Is that so and so? Huh? Bunch of hippies."

"Who's that? "God dangit!" (scroll bar got away) "Dammit!"

"If somebody gave me that for mother's day I'd say 'What the hell is this?'"

"Oh, they look so happy!"

"Isn't that a pretty butterfly? And kid too."

"$40 for that thing? What a waste of money."

(Laughs) "That's cute. I like that."

"He got to see the winner? My cousin? Huh. That's interesting."

"Let's see what we got here."

"That looks like alcohol was involved." (Comments: Love it!)

(I swear that last one wasn't on one of my pictures!)

Maybe I could make this a series. It could take off and be made into a TV sitcom

Oh, the possibilities...