P.S. I love you

It all started at his birth. You see, for some reason, my baby and I have bonded in a totally different way than my other children. I believe it all started at his birth.

"I'm sorry," the nurse said to me when I walked in. "You are at an 8. You will not be having an epidural."

"I'm sorry," I frantically responded. "I don't have babies without epidurals.'

After about 15 minutes of convincing, they finally gave me an epidural...or so they said. Turns out whatever they put into my back was not an epidural. I felt everything. Luckily it was fast. But it hurt. A lot!!

So when they gave him to me a few seconds after he was born, I wasn't ready to hold him. Not because I didn't love him, because I did. I just had never experienced that extreme pain and I was trying to wrap my mind around what had just transpired and couldn't emotionally wrap my arms around my child. It was odd.

That is where it started.

Or maybe it was because I wasn't able to nurse him because he was tongue tied and by the time we figured that one out, I was a mess. He still got the good stuff via pump and bottle, but it wasn't the same...to me at least.

Plus he is a pretty even-natured kid. He doesn't show much emotion either way. He is loving, cuddly and he is wonderful. But when the occasion arises when he is engaging, I try and grab it.

So the other day when he came up to me and was poking me with his finger, I was ready to play. He would go away and then sneak back and rub his finger on my leg. I thought it was so cute.

Cute until I peeked to see what he was really doing.

He would walk away, put his finger up his nose and retreave a little treat. Then he would return to share his treasure with my pants.

Oh, yes. Our bonding rituals are unique...to say the least.