I feel its important to tell everyone that….I have a stalker. It makes me very frustrated most of the time and everywhere I go, I feel his eyes on me and hear his voice pulsating in my ear.   He’s approximately 28 inches tall with sandy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a killer smile.  Please don’t let his small stature fool you.  When he feels ignored, it quickly becomes a downright chilling situation.  Yes, folks….its true.  I’m being stalked by my toddler.  And I’m just now sitting here wondering if its even possible to take out a personal protection (PPO) order against your own child.   Becaue I fear that this might be the only way that I will escape him, even for short periods of time.

I never had this stalking issue with my older penis person, Nicklas.  He’d been in daycare since birth and barely noticed when I left the room, the building, the city.  He would batt his eyelashes at whatever woman whom I had handed him off too and THEY would become his new best friend.  And then I would wander off in to the real world for 8 to 10 hours a day, confident he was wowing them and that they were gobbling it all up.  And because he MISSED me all day as much as I had missed him, our reuniting would rival that of reunification of people separated by great distances and insurmountable time.  It was always hugging and sloppy smooches and declarations of never ending love.

With Joshua, things go a BIT differently (I’m delusional and you will soon see that this is the understatement of the century).  I’m now at home all day instead of “out in the world”.  From the moment of awakeness until the moment of sleep, its all mommy and Joshua, ALL the damn time.  And there are moments that I’m half certain that he’s as tired of seeing ME as I sometimes am of seeing HIM.   When he wakes up from his nap and I go in to fetch him, I’d swear that there is a look on his face that silently declares “Oh no, not YOU again”.

But to be honest…for the most part, the vibe that I get from him is one in which he cannot FUNCTION if he cannot SEE me or TOUCH me.   If I happen to open the refridgerator door to get him some juice and I’m out of his line of eagle eye vision for even a few brief moments….the stream of tears that is likely to follow is only slighly worse than the other option, which is for him to whine and wimper until I reappear.  If I happen to dart in to the bathroom to take a much needed restroom break (or to hide, yes I HIDE IN THERE), he will wiggle his little fingers under the door, in an effort to remind me that he’s just sitting there waiting for me to come out.

I love my wee little penis person, but there is only so much human contact that a woman can be required to sustain without literally cracking the hell up.  Its constantly grabbing and reaching for and holding on to.  I quite honestly spend more than my share of days with a small penis person attached at my hip.  I try to rotate him from side to side so I don’t wear out one hip more rapidly than the other.  When he isn’t able to con me in to holding him, he will then spend most large chunks of his time with a death grip on the cuff of my pants, holding on for dear life and shadowing me everywhere I go.  I trip over him several times an hour.  His feet and mine become intertwined repeatedly and we’ve ended up in a toppled mess on the floor on more than one occasion.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he would spread his stalking out to others….if he would stalk the head penis person with the same amount of zealot.  But no…… on the off chance I must leave the nest minus any of my baby birds in tow…Joshua cries from the moment I’m gone until I return.  Jeff will sometimes call me when my taste for freedom has led me to stray TOO FAR for TOO LONG…and I can hear the desperation in his voice as he begs me to return ASAP.  He can appreciate my need to leave and be solo sometimes, but its usurped by the overwhelming urge to want the young penis person to just shut the fuck up.  And, sadly, there is only one way to ensure the little ones happiness… And so I return home quicker than I’d like….and feeling even more than a little stalked.

And so, I find myself many days wedged between WANTING to be home with this wonderful person….and wanting to go back to the world of the regular folks, whose work takes them OUTSIDE the home….where for 8 to 10 hours a day I can just be ME and not mommy of Joshua and sole person responsible for his happiness.  Work, even part time, is quickly becoming a mirage of sorts for me.  There is a good chance that even working full time, in this economy, I’d likely be making just enough to KEEP him in daycare.  But it might just be worth it…because otherwise, in about 5 years, he’s gonna be that kid on the first day of kindergarten who will literally need to be pried, kicking and screaming, from my arms.  And, to be honest, those are the parents that I’ve always kind of pitied.