Cling

v: to adhere as if glued firmly

I came across this meme recently, courtesy of Instagrammer @realtoughdad, and it made me LOL. I knew exactly what he was getting at.

Before I had kids, I heard parents talk about “Velcro babies,” the ones they say stick to you and go into full-blown panic mode if you leave the room. I had never known a baby like that and the thought of having one of my own scared me—a lot.

Amazingly, I now have a son and a daughter, and neither were “Velcro babies.” Both of my kids went to daycare at three months old and were champs! There were never any hysterical crying fits when I left; with my son, I was lucky if he said goodbye at all.

But last year, I decided to leave my job and become a stay-at-home mom. I do not regret that decision at all and I love my children more than I can ever express. I sometimes joke that they will need to join a support group later in life because I hug and kiss them so much.

But being at home did change how much they cling to me.

Granted, I still wouldn’t classify either of them as “Velco” children, but they just don’t have any respect for personal space. As a stay-at-home mom trying to accomplish about 50 things at once, I don’t sit much. When I do sit down for that all-too-brief moment, I just want to put my feet up and take a deep breath. Sadly, my kids have other ideas.

When my son is watching Power Rangers or Octonauts on the iPad, he is usually oblivious to what is going on around him. Amazingly, however, he can sense me about to sit down and he is headed my way before my butt even hits the sofa.

"Mommy, I'm here because I love you," he says. "Every part of my body loves you."

I love that, but he can’t just sit next to me, he has to be on me—usually digging his bony little elbows into my belly.

Before my daughter could talk, she would toddle over to me, hang on to my legs, and scream at me (at an alarmingly high pitch). When she brings a book for me to read to her—seven or eight times—she’s happy.

And forget about it if I sit down with a snack. I've heard about moms eating in closets or the bathroom. I totally get it now.

I know that this time with both of my kids is limited and I do love that they love me so much. But having little arms and legs and feet touching me all the time can be exhausting, and dirty—especially when those little feet have been playing outside with no shoes.

When both of my children were brand-new babies, my most favorite part was holding them on my shoulder and feeling their breath on my cheek. At that time, I clung to them, wanting to feel them and smell them and kiss them all day and night.

Maybe they’re just getting back at me.

Regardless, I will take a quick second to mourn my lost moments of “me time” and try to appreciate this phase of bony elbows and high-pitched screaming. I will gather these memories and hold onto them in the years to come.