Mama’s boy

They say it’s not possible to spoil a baby, but we’re beginning to wonder. Although James is, for the most part, an easy baby, he does have a few little quirks. First off, sometimes no one but Mommy will do — even if he’s not hungry. With Maddi, it didn’t matter who was holding her as long as they had food. But even if he’s just been fed, if James is tired or gassy, nine times out of 10, he will fuss and fret until the instant he is in my arms. We joke that he has “Mommy-dar” because he has the uncanny ability to figure out when I have left the room. He can be chilling on Daddy’s lap, but try as I might to sneak off and give Maddi a bath, quite often he begins squeaking his disapproval within seconds of my slinking out. In fact, James will even awaken from a dead sleep the instant I have left any room.

Another of James’ idiosyncrasies is his “food-dar,” which alerts him to the fact that I am eating. Anytime I’m trying to get a bit of nourishment into my body, James’ food-dar goes off and he emits a series of grunts, which, if left unanswered, will escalate to short, insistent cries that sound an awful lot like he’s yelling at me. He will lie contentedly in his bouncy seat sucking on a pacifier for hours, but the instant he hears the sound of butter being spread on a sandwich or a pizza slice being microwaved, James will settle for nothing less than being held by Mommy herself.

The pediatrician asked this week if James is able to track with his eyes yet. I had to laugh because for weeks, James has been tracking me from across the room. His eyes never leave me no matter where I go. Maddi can be making silly faces, Daddy can be trying to talk to the little guy, but James only has eyes for Mommy. I finally know what celebrities feel like. (Daddy already has had his turn with Maddi, who has long greeted him with the breathless enthusiasm of a teenage girl in the Beatles’ heyday.)

I must say that while I’d really like to be able to shower and eat in the same day, I’m quite flattered by our little son’s apparent adoration of me. In fact, while I am fortunately capable of holding it together when he’s absent from a room, I think he’s pretty wonderful himself!

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is a picture of our 10-week-old cutie patootie (who, by the way, measures in at a healthy 11 pounds, 15 ounces and 22.5 inches as of Friday and has been released by his pediatrician to the care of our family doctor!):

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