Attached at the Hip

Lately Punky is super clingy... to me alone ... and nobody else will do.  I don't know what to make of it. 

Nothing has changed in her world.  She hasn't been sick, her daily routine remains the same, we haven't introduced any new scary things... but suddenly the minute I leave her sight she cries and whines until I come back.  If I'm not home she does get over it fairly quickly, but if she knows I'm in the house she's relentless.  I don't get it.

Twice this weekend her dad tried to feed her while I did a few things around the house.  She cried and whined through the entire meal both times.  After every spoonful she called for me in the most heart-wrenching tone I've ever heard.  Was the food yucky?  Was it too hot?  Was she not hungry yet?  She was so upset and pitiful.  Real tears running down her beautiful little face...

As soon as I finished what I needed to do, I took over for the last few bites and she was fine.  She finished eating and went back to playing like nothing ever happened.  As long as I stayed in sight... any sudden disappearance on my part caused a repeat episode.

It's not like she is starving for my attention and interaction; she gets plenty of that and she does play so nicely by herself as long as she can see me.  Maybe it's just a resurgence of separation anxiety and it will pass in time. 

Leaving for work in the morning is excruciating if she's awake.  Her dad tries to keep her busy, even if it's just a diaper change, to give me enough time to leave without her actually seeing me go.  It has always been painful to leave her, but lately I've been walking out the door with tears in my eyes as I hear her wailing and calling for me over and over.  In that moment I feel like I'm abandoning her.  My baby needs me...

Although it's a tough phase she's going through, I don't have it in me to complain.  She'll be over it soon enough and there are many mothers who would jump at the chance to experience it.

In bouncing around the blog world, I've discovered several dedicated to terminally ill beautiful little babies.  Babies Punky's age that are fighting for their lives and losing the battle.  I read.  I cry.  I dream of these precious little angels.  My heart aches for the families.  I cry some more.  I can't even begin to grasp the extent of their pain.

And no matter how upset I get, I can't stop reading and hoping for miracles.  It keeps in perspective just how lucky and blessed I am to have my little girl.  It keeps me from taking anything for granted.  It makes me cherish the occasional sleepless night.  It helps me smile through the tantrums and laugh at the messes.  It reminds me to enjoy every second with my monkey of a toddler. 

Sometimes I get angry.  Sometimes I get frustrated.  Sometimes I need a break.  Motherhood isn't all roses.  If you stop to smell the ones that exist, it helps you overlook the bare stems in the bouquet.