Wheeee! Daddy's Back! MAMA!

Yep, the Dada-guy's back. Know what that means? It means the cling-i-rific-ness that my son exemplifies as an art form only quadruples. Yep, he's mildly self-sufficient when Daddy's not around. I can do dishes, take a shower, pee (sometimes), all on my own. All my pictures today will be of random, pleasant, Collin enjoying Daddy and of him being adorable...because frankly, even when he's yelling in my face he's adorable. And, because I didn't take any pictures of him yelling in my face.

(oh, and if you ever wonder why Collin's always wearing different shirts in the same day, it's because he's suddenly taken a serious aversion to wearing bibs...like freak-out aversion. I'm sure you actually noticed, right? The Laundry Fairy doesn't mind one bit...nope, nada, not at all. She loves laundry)


I do all of these things with a minimum amount of the MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! shouts that translate to "what are you doing without my and please drop it to just look at me." No, he doesn't actually NEED me to read the story he's flapping against my thigh, or to drive the car he's zooming into my armpit. He just wants me to look, look at him, and look often, constantly, and never stop.
When Daddy's here, for some reason, I have to do this more. Endlessly more. And it's way worse the first day that Daddy gets home from a trip. I'm convinced that in his little head, Daddy just got home, which means Daddy is capable of leaving, so that means it's possible, just possible that Mommy can leave to....so, therefore, he must, must, must call for me, ALL the flipping time. If I leave the room, he's got to follow. If I turn around, he's got to make sure I turn back. Makes sense if you are approaching two.

So, even though Daddy was home this morning, I took a shower with Collin literally staring at me through the open shower door, pointing at my "ebow" then, my "neeeeee," then telling me I had more "booobles." Get your minds out of the gutter. Those were soap bubbles. Anyway, I'm more tired today, with the "help" from Daddy then I've been all week, going it alone. I think Collin might be too. Yelling Mama! at the top of your lungs, endlessly, is pretty exhausting.

But, they have had fun all day, when I'm in direct line-of-sight mind you. And, he's getting pretty interested in poop noises and sounds, which is a fun and totally off-subject, but still interesting development for the day. My Crocs slippers were making a fart noise on the floor today and he kept saying "poop" and pointing at me. And, he keeps doing it. Whenever he farts, he says poop too. And, the other day in the bath, he fake grunted and pulled a toy out of his butt, pretending to have pooped it out. Great stuff, huh? No pics of that, sorry. So, I've got a boy, interested in poop noises. Who would've thought that was possible? That's like a girl who likes pink, right? P.S. I saw Marley and Me last night...and if you have a dog, don't expect to come out of that movie with dry eyes. There is virtually no movie that will get me a-weeping but that one had me pretty sad-eyed. I cried enough that I had to use my sleeve. It was gross. Really. Eddie has gotten some serious treats the past 24 hours as a result. The worst part is I had read the book, so I should've known! I should've been prepared! Stupid! Stupid me!