Robbie is going through a mommy phase like I’ve never seen before. He wakes up saying, “Mama! Mama!” Only he pronounces it “Ma-mah”, with the emphasis on the first syllable, like he’s European. I’m not sure how to feel about it. Some days, I’m mildly amused. Others it irritates me almost as much as hearing “Miss!” all day at school. But, I digress.
Young Robert is none-too-pleased to see Justin walk through his door in the morning. As I get dressed, I hear Robbie continue to chant my name. I do what I can to stay out of Robbie’s line of sight while Justin gets him ready for the day, but all bets are off when the boys return to our bedroom. Robbie instantly becomes attached to my legs, whether it’s holding on with both arms or resting against them as he crouches down to eat cereal. And if I decide to leave the room? Tears. Epic tears. And screams loud enough to wake the building.
And poor Justin. This does nothing for his daddy ego. Just as Robbie can’t seem to understand why I would even allow Justin time alone with him, Justin has no idea what he’s done to deserve the screams of horror that go along with Robbie being left with him. This morning, I offered some solutions. Perhaps Justin should stop holding Robbie upside-down to play. Justin thinks this should be fun (I happen to agree; I loved being upside-down when I was little), but our vote doesn’t seem to count on this one. Perhaps it’s that I bring him food in the morning. Maybe it’s Justin’s crazy class schedule. Whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t last too long.
After all, although I fully expect to always be Robbie’s favorite parent, it just isn’t fair that he bursts into tears at the prospect of time alone with Justin.