Since the day she could talk it’s mama this mama that, all day and every day. She loves B, but she somehow needs me more, or maybe it’s just a different way of parent child bonding.
I love her, more than anyone else, however at some point she and her mama mania drive me crazy. Mad crazy and guilt crazy, if you know what I mean. The ultimate saviours when I find myself locked up in the toilet with a toddler yanking at the door is leaving the house and sniff some fresh air. Even if she’s screaming her insides out and knocking herself against the floor. A hell lot better when B is home. I mean, what’s superior to having someone around who knows how hard the phase you’re in can be?
But there’s more. The icing on the cake is the moment I think that one day she’ll look at me and think o my fucking god, that woman I call mother is batshit crazy. I know she loves me, more than anyone else. I also know she had it coming because karma is… well karma. And I’m back to peace and quiet again. Insert big smile :).
PS. Sometimes I think that moment is here already.