“Can you guys please just give me two minutes?” I plead as I try to scramble some eggs. Lucy and Sam are both hanging off my legs, screaming for me to pick them up.
Welcome to the needy stage! And there’s only one thing more needy than a 14 month old toddler: two 14 month old toddlers. They constantly want to be picked up and carried around, and always at the same time. What Lucy has, Sam wants and vice versa: whether it’s a toy, a book, a snack or, in this case, mom.
“Please, please just give me a minute to get dinner ready.”
“Ahhhhhhhhh,” Sam yells as he clings to my left leg.
“Uh uh uh uh uh,” Lucy screams as she hangs off my right leg.
I try to shuffle towards the stove so I can pour the eggs into the pan. I miscalculate a step and Lucy trips over my foot. Now she’s on the ground crying. Sam is still clinging to my leg, but then he trips over Lucy and ends up the ground too. While attempting to catch the babies before they hit the ground (I was unsuccessful in both attempts), I spill the eggs on the counter.
“Forget it!” It’s my turn to scream. “You’re having yogurt for dinner!”
Slowly crazy going am I.
For days I deal with clingy, needy, exhausting toddlers. By Friday, I’m at the end of my rope and am so happy it’s the weekend because that means Mark will be around to help me.
Saturday morning, Mark and I head into babies’ room after their morning nap. Both Sam and Lucy are standing in their cribs when we walk in. I head over to Sam’s crib to pick him up, but he reaches for Mark. No big deal. I turn and walk over to Lucy’s crib to pick her up instead. But she pushes my arm away and reaches for Mark too. Mark manages to pull both of them out of their cribs while I stand there empty-handed.
This I don’t like.
Empty-handed mommy is the theme for the day. Lucy and Sam both cling to Mark, reach for Mark and (http://twitter.com/#!/AmyBeeman/status/129593081212313600/photo/1).
No one wanted mom. Not once. No one reached for mom. No one clung to mom. No one cried for mom. Not during our walk. Not at the park. Not after their nap. Not in the living room. Not in the kitchen. Not in their bedroom. Not once.
No one wanted mom.
By the end of the day, my self esteem is hitting an all time low. Mark tries to comfort me. “Oh Amy, they love their mom. I’m sure they’ll be sick of me tomorrow and they’ll be all over you.” I’m not convinced as I get into bed.
Sunday morning, I enter their room with trepidation. I’m already afraid of the rejection. Slowly I walk over to Sam. He gives me a big grin and reaches for me. Things are looking up. Next I walk over to Lucy, who is Mark’s arms. She giggles and holds out her arms to give me a snuggle. Yes, things are definitely looking up.
By the end of Sunday, things are back to normal: Lucy cuddles with Mark, Sam cuddles with me, Lucy cuddles with me, Sam cuddles with Mark. All is right in the world again.
… and then Monday night I find myself back in the kitchen…
“Can you guys please just give me two minutes?” I plead as I try to scramble some eggs. Lucy and Sam are both hanging off my legs, screaming for me to pick them up.
“Please, please just give me a minute to get dinner ready.”
“Ahhhhhhhhh,” Sam yells as he clings to my left leg.
“Uh uh uh uh uh,” Lucy screams as she hangs off my right leg.
I take a deep breath.
… maybe next Saturday I won’t be so upset about being empty-handed… J
