Like many of my readers, I am a Supermom. I am also a Lovey. Put me right up there with Linus's blanket and Maggie Simpson's pacifier. I am a security item, a source of comfort to small children when they're scared, tired, or not feeling well. Well, when I say "I" am those things, I actually mean "my body." That's right. An alternate title for this blog entry could have been, "Boys only want me for my body."
Let's see... this started soon after Alexander stopped breastfeeding, around 16 months old. My theory is that, in order to replace the physical closeness of breastfeeding with something else, he "latched on" to my stomach, or as he called all stomachs at the time, my "tickle." He just liked to lay with me and rub my belly! Now that he is four years old, my stomach is the only one still called a "tickle," and he still asks for it at least once per day (Well, occasionally I think he also does this to Justin, but I am definitely the main "tickle" owner). He'll say, "Lay down and I will touch your tickle," or "Lay flat so I can touch your tickle." It's sweet, but sort of weird.
Jack chose a more common lovey: my hair. Again, he started his hair obsession soon after he stopped nursing, which for him was around 14 months. Actually, he would often pull on my hair while nursing, so I guess it started there. It's getting a little out of hand lately, though. When it looks like he's giving me the biggest hug ever? Just trying to reach the bulk of my hair. Last night when he came to bed with me he literally laid on top of my head so that he could have the best access to all my hair. I kept trying to reposition myself, but he just kept hugging on, laying on top of, and generally molesting my head.
So, really! What's up with this?! I think I'd feel needed and honored if they wanted me to hug them, sing to them, or stroke their backs! But I sort of feel used! Boys! They really do just want me for my body! I honestly wonder what Jack would think if I cut off my hair and sewed it to his stuffed monkey. Perhaps I would no longer be necessary. Hmph! At least I can use this as blackmail when they're teenagers and would be sorely embarrassed to have once loved their Mommy so much! Mwuhaha!