Truth be told, my 4 year old is a total mama's boy. I'm sorry Will's Future Wife, but he is. He wants ME on the field with him during T Ball. He wants ME to take him up for bath time. He wants ME to do every freaking thing that he needs done, unless it is go outside in the 97 degree heat with a heat index of 105 because he knows that ain't gonna happen so he turns to Mark. And Jack.... Jack my little former Daddy's boy, has crossed over. When he was younger, he wanted Mark to do everything. He ran to Mark for everything. Now, oh no. It's me. He has joined the ranks of Mommy Worshippers and happily gulped the Kool Aid down.
It's not that I don't enjoy the unwavering love that I get from these two, but sometimes I really wish I could get a little less. Shouldn't Daddy get to make Jack's sippy of chocolate milk? No, Jack screams "MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA" like a never ending tornado siren, fluctuating in volume only because he is running around in circles shrieking until I give in and mix the stupid powder into the milk myself. And Will, I really need you to understand that Mommy can't hobble out onto the T Ball field right now because her foot is broken and she will look like an idiot and Mommy would much rather sit back and hide her face in shame as you bawl at shortstop over the fact that I am sitting on my butt and not catering to your every whim. And don't get me started on why Mommy is not going to be like the other swimming lesson Mom and jump in fully clothed just to get you to see you can jump in with a noodle and not be afraid. Be scared, because I am not ruining my favorite jeans for that.
So, today I've decided that I should have been a seahorse, so that Mark could be their bestie and I could be their shrugging "Sorry, he wants you to do it" parent. Plus, seriously, look at that 'do. Dye the top blue and I totally looked like that in college.