Little Cling-On

I'm really ready for this phase to be over. Really. There can be three boys sitting on the couch watching tv while I'm trying to pay the bills and he'll come in, snatch my hand off the mouse, and then start in with the air raid siren until I come with him. All because he wanted some juice. Juice that any of the three boys rotting their brains in front of the tv could help him with.

But no.

They aren't mommy.

I could be trying to make dinner while doing lessons with Jonathan, answering questions for Christopher, and double checking Matthew's grammar while Mark sits on the couch fiddling with something unimportant and instead of letting daddy change his diaper, he'll shriek for me to do it.

Everything is like this. He is constantly attached to me like a baby monkey. To go to the bathroom involves 10min of trying to detach him from me which usually ends up with me finally managing to pry my clothes out from his hands while simultaneously jumping up and running away quickly. This ends with me getting to the bathroom just a few steps ahead of him and getting to listen to him screaming at me through the door while trying to kick it down.

I need steel reinforced, sound proof doors. Seriously. That is all I want for Christmas/Channukah. Maybe just a small, sound proof bomb shelter...just big enough for one.