My enitre life I have heard that boys are attached to their moms. I have to admit, I was really looking forward to that when my little boy was born. Sadly, my son is a traitior. He likes everyone else more than me. The traitor was colic during the first four months of his life.
During the first four months, my husband was still deployed. He got to miss all of the awesome goodness from our son’s crying. My husband got to miss all of the late nights bouncing the traitor and carrying him around the apartment so he’ll sleep and driving at 4 A.M. for a couple of hours to get him to sleep. Lucky.
When my son was born, I wasn’t the first one to get to hold him like it was planned. Because there were some issues when he came out, one of the doctors took him to check him out. Once he was cleared, I still didn’t get to hold him (due to me having some issues as well). Nope, I didn’t. The first one to hold him besides the pediatrician was my husband. I was all like, “Dude, give me my baby. I want to hold him.” Since my husband held him first, and for a little while before I got him, our son wound up bonding with him.
Now, all of this would have been okay if my husband would have been able to stay and help me take care of him more than a week and a half, but he had to go back to Afghanistan. The day my husband left was the first day my little traitor started crying. A lot.
I know what babies do best is cry, but he cried ALL THE TIME. Day and night, night and day. Nothing would calm him down. Nothing except seeing my husband on Skype. Yep, as soon as he saw his daddy he was okay. This is when I first realized that I am indeed chopped liver.
It didn’t stop there, whenever I had friends over or if I went to visit friends, my son was perfectly fine. I remember one night talking on the phone to my friend, Jamie, and crying to her about the traitor not stopping his crying. She invited me over to her house so that I could get some sleep and she would take care of the little booger. As soon as I gave him to her, he was fine. FINE. Of course, whenever there was someone else around, he was okay.
To this day, whenever the traitor starts to cry and either daddy comes home or a friend comes over, or if I’m even with him at the grocery store, my son is the picture of a well-behaved, cute little boy. Of course. But as soon as he realizes I’m the only one around, and he gets bored, let the crying games begin.
This is all okay. I love my little boy and wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world. Besides, when he’s a teenager and he wonders why I like to embarass him so much in front of his friends or his girlfriends, I will refer him to my blog. He can read about how awesome a traitor he was when he was a little baby. Mommy will get her revenge. Mwahahahahaha!