I have a confession to make to you all. Please don’t judge me but…
I frequently hide out from my children.
Now, it’s not totally for the reasons you think, I swear. Yes, sometimes they drive me totally nuts and sometimes I desperately need a break (or even to pee alone), but that’s not why I hide.
I hide from the Littlest Brewster so that I can actually eat something in its entirety without having to share it.
And I hide from BIT so that she’s happy.
Let me explain: We’ve always jokingly referred to the Littlest Brewster as “our little locust.” (Well, I have, anyway. I’m pretty sure the DreadBrewer is more mature than that.) I kid you not, the child will eat anything. This is what it looks like if she happens upon you and you have food while she does not:
If there’s something delicious that I don’t want to share, I’ve been known to hide in the hallway and scarf it as quickly as possible while LB is distracted with toys or books. The DreadBrewer and I have even tag teamed each other, with one running interference while the other nibbles his or her treat in peace.
And she doesn’t limit herself to the tasty delicious things, like our occasional brownie or sweet. Oh no. The Littlest Brewster is an equal-opportunity food pilferer and will shamelessly beg for part no matter what you’re eating.
And while LB is and always has been our little locust, only recently has BIT become my little barnacle. I know (well, I’m pretty sure) that somewhere around this age is when separation anxiety and clinginess can set in. Which is why, when you add in the 3 or so new teeth and the upper respiratory crud/fever that BIT came down with recently, BIT the Barnacle refuses to let me put her down.
BUT, and this is where the hiding for her own sake comes in, the Brewster-In-Training is perfectly content to let her daddy put her down to play with her toys or jump in the Jenny Jump-Up or sit on his lap and “talk.” If I accidentally come within eyesight or she hears my voice, her little head swivels around and she is crawling over to me as fast as she can, determined to pull on my leg and cry until I pick her up. Thus my reaction the other night when I was walking up the stairs and almost ruined their mutual fun with my mere presence…
Even Grandy remarked on it last weekend. If either Grandy or DB was holding BIT, she was lunging around, trying to get down on the floor and play or practice pulling up or follow her sister. But if I was around, she wanted me to hold her and she would hold on back for dear life.
I can even just walk near her rolly cart (that thing she can push herself around in) and make a feint like I’m going to put her in it and she starts to cry. Yet if DB puts her in there (and I’m not within her sight), she’s fine.
So between my barnacle and my locust, I’m besieged on all sides.
Though if you come to think of it, sacrificing half my calories to a ravenous toddler while continuously carrying a 20 lb load is one sure way to lose some weight. Maybe it’s more of a blessing than I think?