Baby Loves Mommy!

Baby Loves Mommy!

(And Daddy can bite it!)
I love my daughter with everything that I am. She is my world, my number one. But when I found out we were having a boy, I got kinda giddy. I can play rough with this one! And dude was gonna even out the testosterone/estrogen quotient in the kingdom! This was gonna be fun!
Pregnancy wasn’t. But why bother.
Then one day, out pops Little Man!
Yeah, he’s just a baby. Can’t throw him around the bed yet.
And so he grows.
Two years old and he is a maniac. Loves to smash and throw everything. Sure, it’s cute when he does it. And yeah, Im throwing him all over the place. He does flips and lands on the bed laughing hysterically and demanding more in that cute, high-pitched roar.
We have a lot of fun. It’s basically what I thought it would be plus a whole lot more. He’s a little jokester. One day we went upstairs to change his diaper. I pop into the bathroom to grab the Vaseline, I turn around and Little Man is gone. I find him standing in his sister’s room with a pillowcase draped over his head, laughing. He then insists on walking to his room with it on, laughing all the way.
We hang good.
And then night falls and he fucking turns. I swear to god, his eyes turn evil, his mouth a crushing pout. Doesn’t want me anymore. Nope. He just wants Mommy! The later it gets the worse it gets. Thereve been times, when he wakes up after midnight and I end up holding him as Mommy gets ready for bed, that leave my arms sore for days. It’s a fucking wrestling match. And not a fun one. I’m holding him around the waist and he is shoving his hands into my face and leaning so far out I’m afraid he’s going to break his little back, all while hes screaming,”Noooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!”
What the hell, Little Man?!?! We were hanging not long ago, remember? We’re pals, buds, compadres.
When I come to bed all I get are kicks in the face. Not a great way to get some shut eye. And as I lie there, my head bouncing from side to side, I wonder, is this ever going to change? We have our good times, but it’s Mommy first, always. Guess I gotta work through this shit or it wont change.
So I do. And sometimes it’s hard. Many days are spent nursing a sore neck and lightly bruised head. And Mommy giggles her ass off about it. But I made my way.
I did, finally, win him over during the witching hour. He still prefers Mommy and always will, but I’ll do, in a pinch. We have our own way, in all that we do.

 

Yup. Pretty fucking great.

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