Time to get out again. This morning, I kissed my own knee.
Why would I do that? No, it's not to check for the hairs I missed when I was shaving (though I always miss a few since I shave in the shower at least once a year and I can't see a thing without my glasses on), and no, it's not because I am in love with myself (though I'm pretty cute and I always listen when I talk to myself).
It's because there is always a child there.
Children do not understand the concept of personal space. When Liam (big brother) sees Kyle (little brother) lying on Mama's lap to nurse, why wouldn't he want to be there, too? The more the merrier! "Mom, let's play babies," he says. "You be the mama and I will be the baby." Mm, now there's a wild, reckless fantasy I want to indulge in.
I ask Liam, quite often, to give his mama some space. He knows I love to listen to myself talk (I always do, you know). So that means when Mama's lips are moving, the best thing to do is ignore her. He always seems so surprised when he goes in for the baby attack and ends up on the floor.
It's gotten so that I stick them in their car seats just for the pleasure of having them buckled in a locked car.
I bounce myself to sleep when my arms are empty, make snacks for children who are in school, and, like today, kiss my own childless knee. My brain thinks there is a child there, even when there's not. I haven't yet changed any phantom poopy diapers, but I'm sure it won't be long. I'll let you know. After I fill out my admission papers to the loony bin.