February 11, 2012

Mommy LoJack

For some reason (I blame the fact that he was an emergency c-section and spent the first four hours of his life away from me), K is overly attuned to everything about me. I can't even tell you how many times I have woken up early in the morning, amazed to find that the kids did not wake me up first, starting to fantasize about having a few minutes to myself, only to immediately (or within two minutes) hear the patter/stomp of K's feet heading to me. And he always heads straight to me in the morning. He rarely does anything else before coming to wake me up and never goes to James. As a baby, he never sat quietly in his crib. He woke up screaming and didn't stop until I was there and taking him out of that accursed crib!
[K and I taking a much needed nap shortly after he came home from the hospital.]

I've said that he has a Mommy LoJack on me. You know LoJack, right? It's an anti-theft device that is put into your car so that it can be tracked wherever it is. K has me Lojacked!
[Couch cuddling, when K was three.]

Sometimes it has been sweet. When I was pregnant with S, I would often wake up uncomfortable in the middle of the night. I'd have to get up to stretch or get food or whatever I had to do to try to relax and alleviate my aches and pains. Or I'd be up worrying about the birth or whatever else. So many of those nights (and maybe all, I can't remember) K would come out shortly after I did. He just knew I was up. His room wasn't right next to mine, I didn't have the TV on, and sometimes just had one dim light on. But it was like he could feel me being awake. He usually was very sweet and helpful at these times. He'd rub my back or feet, or help me stretch by sitting his thirty-something pound body on my back for counter pressure. Those times were nice.
[9 months pregnant with S.]

Just this week I had another funny Mommy LoJack encounter. Or, rather, James did. I came home from work when K was in a quiet time in his room because of a bad attitude. James didn't want K to know I was home and use it as an excuse to come out of his room or get himself all upset again in an attempt to gain sympathy or get out of his forced rest. So I came in very quietly, didn't say a word, and went straight to my room. James said one or two quiet sentences to me when I came in, but that was it.

As soon as I was in the room, K called to James (and James told me the following exchange).

K: "Daddy, is Mommy home?"
J: "No."
K: "Oh. Who were you talking to?"
J: "Simon."
K: "You used the same voice that you use for Mommy, though."
J: Laughing, "Oh! That's weird."
K: "Are you sure Mommy's not here? I thought I smelled her." [This cracked me up. He can SMELL my entrance!?!?!]
J: "No, she's not home yet."
K: "OK."

When his quiet time was done about 15 minutes later, he didn't question my being there or whether James had lied to him. But he certainly seemed to know right away that I was home!

[On the ferry to Vinalhaven Island, Maine, August 2011.]


  1. Beautiful pictures, Sarah, and a beautiful bond!

  2. That is an uncanny story! I'm sure it comes with its share of smothering feelings and yet kind of special too.