This is a Daddy’s boy. When he wants to cuddle, he wants daddy. If he gets a boo-boo, he wants daddy. When he wants to play, he wants daddy.
Part of me hates this, you know it’s like, well what’s wrong with me! Hello, what am I? Chopped liver? I’m not used to that kind of treatment.
But part of me loves it. Our other 2 were definitely mama’s babies, and I felt bad for Matt because they treated him the way our youngest treats me. It makes me beam with pride and happiness that Matt gets to have a Daddy’s boy, that he gets to be the go-to guy. That he gets to know that little guy’s world revolves around him!
I really feel better for him than I feel bad for me.
That’s like total selflessness, right?
OK, I’ll take my reward now.
And I was doing so well.
