She’s a Cling-On
Some children have a pacifier, others have a blanket. Some a teddy bear or baby doll. Security items that make that child feel safe. Annabel? She’s got me! She never took to a pacifier, never sucked her thumb, well except for that one time….
She’s always just been a mama’s girl, attached to me at the hip. She’s what I lovingly refer to as a “Cling-On”. Not to be confused with a Klingon:
No, she’s the much prettier and flatly-shaped-forehead variety. The kind that, well….clings on. If I am in the room, she wants to be in my arms, which means that I spend a large majority of my time staring down at this:
In the above picture, she is saying “UP!” As in, pick me up NOW, woman!
The sheer volume of photos that I have of this variety should prove that I’m not exaggerating when I say that this is a pretty regular thing. And as much as I love holding her (I really, really do!), this constant need to be held poses many difficulties. For one, she’s starting to get kind of heavy. If I’m going to be lifting and lugging 22ish pounds around for the majority of the day, I at least want to gain some muscle out of it. But no, my arms remain as flabby as ever.
Secondly, I kind of need two hands to do most things that I want to do. Holding a 22 pound lump in one arm makes cooking an even bigger chore than it already is.
And lastly, she doesn’t just want to be held. I’d welcome the opportunity to hold her in my arms and snuggle on the couch. But little Miss-On-the-Go must be carted off somewhere. If I’m sitting down and holding her, she whines “up” over and over until I stand and do her bidding. This usually consists of walking her into the kitchen where she points to the refrigerator and demands that I open it. She doesn’t want anything out of it; she just wants to look around. Baby needs to learn about wasting energy.
Anyway. I feel like this is pretty typical behavior at her age, but every now and again I read a blog about a kid her age who is so independent and wants nothing to do with their mom. While I don’t want that extreme, it does make me wonder if I’m doing something wrong. Does she not feel safe? Have I not fostered her independence? Am I worrying about absolutely nothing when I should be enjoying the fact that she actually wants me around? Almost definitely!