All mommy, all the time

I guess we’re entering what one might call a separation anxiety phase. The Adorable Boychild has become raw-ther clingy with me lately. There are times when I leave the room, and it’s a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. I went to change over the laundry the other day and when I came back, it was like I walked in on a screening of Old Yeller. Though I know I shouldn’t be, I am vaguely flattered by this new development, but at the same time, I need a little room to breathe. Or at least to shower. And occasionally nap. But I keep telling myself that soon it’ll be Daddymatic who can’t leave the room to pee without bringing the child to the point of a nervous breakdown, and I will probably be jealous for the time when Only Mommy Would Do.