Why, oh why?

Why do our little ones insist on breaking our hearts? "Someone" who shall remain nameless was a fusser ALL. WEEKEND. LONG. He refused to go down for a nap without a fight...which resulted in missing a few of them. But we made it through.

Fast forward to this morning, which was a little bit better. Not great--and I sure wasn't hating the thought of going to work for a break--but better. Here's the bullet to the heart. I had to struggle to get any smiles out of him all morning (well, heck, all weekend), but the second he saw his baby-sitter, he was all smiles. Thanks, son. Thanks.

So mama cried part of the way to work. I know this is normal, and it doesn't mean that he doesn't love me. All he's done all weekend is crawl after me whining and try to pull on my legs. Or try to climb in my lap, etc. Now...let it be known, I'm not complaining about any of that. It wears on your nerves after a while, but I love this little guy wanting his mama. I just wish I got the smile he gave her today.

Oh well, I just have to remind myself that when he wakes up at 3 am tonight, he won't be saying, "Ms. Crystal," he'll be crying, "mamamamamamama."

Just to think of hearing him say that brings tears to my eyes; I love that little boy!