...than a boy falling asleep after lunch?
The verdict is in, and it should come as no surprise to you, friends. We have called him Mr. Big, Trouble, Todzilla - and many other things for two years. We should have called a spade a spade.
Mama's Boy, is his name.
He is my shadow, he is my lover boy, he is always looking for mama. "Where Mama doe?"
"Oh, hi Mama," he says, after we have been parted for 2 minutes. He runs to me like a little wild thing, takes my hand in his left, and pops his little thumb in his mouth. He only sucks his thumb when he is holding a hand. Preferably, my hand. But after a small amount of convincing, Daddy's hand will do fine too. He runs to me throughout the day, stands close and takes a quick suck of his thumb, and a squeeze of mine. Like refilling his tank.
"Are you mama's boy?" I ask. He gazes up at me and just blinks, as if there is no need to answer. He is right.
Now he has the words for his possession. "That's MY Mama! Doe 'way!" And the bigger ones giggle: "Heehee, he thinks you are HIS." He giggles back, thinking they agree.
"Come hold my hand," I say, "this one is yours."