How it’s possible to love a little intruder

Mind you, I did not pick the tittle for this post. It was my shrink, who has made it his goal to convince me that my son has disrupted my life in ways i’m too afraid or uncomfortable to admit.

I get it dr. g! It was my choice to birth him and raise him. and it is in me to figure out a way to find a good balance in my life so that it doesn’t feel like he’s a little intruder.

The truth is that i do miss my life “sans bebe” I miss not having to think of when’s the best time to run an errand or take a shower. I miss sleeping in the same bed as my husband, again “sans bebe.” And i miss the days in which smoking a cigarrette or responding to email were enjoyable, uninterrupted activities (very much like sex used to be).

Nevertheless, calling our baby a little intruder seems a bit harsh. Seeing a reflection of myself, and that of my husband in him is priceless. The smell of his breath after nursing is something i will never forget. Observing the process of discovery as he smells a flower for the first time or rides a train is simply perfect. His mispronounced I love yous are music to my ears.

So, the next time he throws a tantrum or decides to go on a sleeping strike I will remember these things and hang on to the serenity prayer while I beg for some divine intervention. Soon enough the little intruder won’t be that little anymore and I shall feel quite melancholic remembering these days.

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