Simon is my loverboy. At least that is what he thinks. I can’t sit down without him crawling on me, putting his arms around me, getting in my face, kissing me, and generally driving me crazy. Er, I mean, I love it. It’s awesome. I especially love the part when he climbs on me and hugs me and then grinds his teeth right in my ear — such is the intensity of his love. I like it better when he just moans, “I want you Mom, I waaaannt yoooouuuu.”
I assume he does this because he is a little bit afraid. (And he loves me more than anything in the entire universe and world, of course. But mostly because he’s afraid.) Oliver has my attention more often than he used to, and it causes all kinds of “fun.” Like when Oliver crawled under the bench at church a few weeks ago and I gave him a big smile and then Simon crawled under the bench, jumped up and laughed hysterically (seriously — HYSTERICALLY) and got taken out in the hall. Clearly I don’t love him anymore. And two days a week I drop him off at somebody else’s house for a few hours while Oliver and I go party at the library. Can you believe it? The library? Without Simon? I must really have it in for him.
It used to be just me and him, everywhere, all the time. And those times are coming to an end. Or maybe it’s just that they are no longer the “default” setting of our life. To be honest, it scares me a little bit too. He’s going to go to school soon. He’s going to be away from me all day. He’s going to make new friends. He’s going to discover other interests. And the last thing he is going to want to do is give his mom a hug. Best save up on these things while I can.
“Simon I waaaant yooouuuu. I want you Simon. I looooovvvve yooooouuuu.”