Emotional bonding

I like to talk to Munchkin #2. I think he can understand me. After all, he hears me in stereo. He must think his big sister’s name is “No-no” or “Stop it!” at this rate.

I also like to talk to the Munchkin. Of course, she talks back. And not in English. She speaks a garbled mix of conversational Jawa and Russian, with a few baby words thrown in for good measure. We’re working on making her conversant in the language of the household – English with Japanese words/food terms included. So far, limited success. I anticipate that by the time her uncle and aunt arrive for Christmas, they might be able to understand her. Not as well as they understand German, but we’ll give it our best shot.

I love my kids. I love how the Munchkin hugs me and kisses me and then steals my glasses and pops out the lens and bends the frame. Okay, not so happy about that. But I enjoy the affection and the emotional connection. She knows that I’m Mommy, and I can make almost everything work in her world. It is daunting, however, to be the center of someone’s universe. There is no break from mommyhood. It’s like being an ER doctor – always on call, no holidays or weekends off. Especially right now, when I am food/transportation/housing for Munchkin #2. And I love him, too, even when he wakes me up at night because he thinks my bladder is a punching bag.

Both the Munchkins are important little people, even though one of them hasn’t made an appearance yet. I have deep emotional connections with them. Love them both. This post doesn’t seem to have much of a point, but even when I get frustrated or angry, love for the Munchkins is still there. I hope they know that later – even when they are sitting on time-out.

Comments are closed.