Clingy
April 4, 2008 | Filed under: La Madre, Mmhmm That's Right
“Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother’s love is not.” ~James Joyce
Several years ago I babysat for the world’s most difficult toddler. She was fine during the 10 months prior but once she turned one she was desperate for her mother and her mother was desperate for 40 minutes without a toddler wrapped around her neck and so she would go out and leave me with a child who screamed bloody murder for a solid five minutes. The girl is almost six now and hates when her mother comes home and I have to leave. I remind her of that really great year when she was clingy and wanted nothing more than to duct tape her body to her mother’s forehead and once gave herself a bloody nose because of all the screaming she looked at me and said “Well, I NEVER!” while appalled by such behavior. So I had her yell at me in my right ear and she was all shocked when I claimed I couldn’t hear anything because she had burst that ear drum many years ago with all the fucking screaming.
Though I am not necessarily screaming at the top of my lungs each day I have reverted back to being clingy to my parents, particularly my mother. I can actually appreciate the sentiment of a toddler because sometimes we all need a little loving from our mommies. But at 24, it’s a little awkward to walk up to my mother in the bathroom at work or the kitchen or while she is mid-conversation with my boss and then rest my head in her armpit. Or perhaps nuzzle her chin. Awkward because there are others around and because I find it rather uncomfortable being a good three inches taller. Yesterday I went into her office twice (unheard of) once to shoot the shit because we hadn’t seen each other in a whole 12 hours. The second time she was genuinely happy to see me and gave me a little pat on the cheek. Each time I had to fight the urge to yell out Mommy! Hold me!
I’m thinking the clinginess is a manifestation of the difficulties of the last several months. Nothing that needs detailing right this moment but hard nonetheless and even harder to not analyze and obsess about. I’m also thinking that the clinginess is what led me to spend Wednesday evening with 489 mothers. 489 mothers, people, and there I was praying I didn’t get pregnant by association. What? You didn’t know you could catch that by breathing? It really was lovely and the thing about mothers is that they don’t stop mothering. They can’t help but love everyone and be protective and yell at you for texting while driving. They’re programmed to care. It was wonderful and full of conversation that actually had nothing to do with children but all about love, puppies and how to get sparkles out of rainbows.
I am leaving for Manhattan in a few hours to go spend more time with several more friends. The other day a friend of mine told me that I could use a little “normal” to cling to. Not that I can actually define “normal” but now I understand the reversion of wanting, nay, needing a parent around at all times; I want something I am confident in and something really good to hold onto that makes me feel a little like me again. So I am going to go away and get drunk for three days, stop at Tiffany, walk around Central Park, eat cupcakes, drink mimosas for breakfast, try not to puke and buy something cute from Coach. See? Normal.
Angella says:
I had the best visual of you nuzzling your Momma. I love it!
Lissa says:
There really is nothing like a mother’s touch that makes you want to crawl back into bed and revert back to when you were five years old. I love that.
She Likes Purple says:
Have a mimosa for me!
Becca says:
I do this sometimes too. My mother lives in Chicago and I live in Alabama so I only get to see her about twice a year. When I leave her (and for about a week afterwards) I will randomly throughout the day get that same wave of sadness and longing that I would get when I was a little girl. I remember climbing onto the bus when I was little and would cry when we drove away from my smiling, waving mother. I can’t believe I still get that feeling sometimes. In fact, I am getting it right now….sniffle.
Erika says:
When my mother died in 2001, I felt like an orphan. I literally felt scared and alone as if I wasn’t a 27 year old, married mother of a six year old. I just wanted to crawl in the bed with her. I wasn’t even ashamed to tell people that I slept in her bed (when she let me) until I was 16. That was really more about her California king than my Mom though. So comfortable!
ali says:
i want your normal…Tiffany’s. mimosas. cupcakes. coach. *drool*
Kristabella says:
Sounds normal to me.
I lived away from home for 10 years and moved back mostly because I missed my mom. And my cute-as-a-button nephew.
Penny says:
This is really sweet. My daughter is trying to crawl back into the womb as I type this. She’s two.
I’m trying to savor moments like this. Good to be reminded that she’ll always need me.
Thursday says:
That all sounds perfectly normal to me and I’m only sorry that I’m not with you in Manhattan for Tiffany’s, cupcakes and Coast-shopping even though you might shout at me. Mind you, I wouldn’t hear you as I have a burst eardrum.
Momo Fali says:
How DO you get sparkles out of rainbows? I have thrown away perfectly good rainbows, because I couldn’t get the sparkles out.