When I was pregnant with the Biscuit, obviously I had to give up a significant part of my body, that being my uterus-ish area. Of course I was oh so happy to do it, but as his stay in my belly got longer (and my waistline vanished) I was certainly ready to get my uterus back. He obliged (though he certainly left a path of destruction upon exit) and replaced my uterus with his crib.
And just when I thought my body was my own again, there he goes claiming my boobs. 13 months later, I finally demanded my body back. And, once again, the Biscuit obliged and replaced my boobs with his bottles and sippy cups.
One thing, however, that I haven't managed to get back from my son is my shoulder... my left shoulder to be exact.
The day I brought the Biscuit home from the hospital (forever a photo-memory as evidenced in our first picture together at our house), I made the crazy mistake of asking the Biscuit if he needed "mommy's shoulder." It's a simple thing that I have no doubt every mother probably does with their child. I put a burp cloth on my left shoulder, sat in his rocking chair/glider, and plopped him on my shoulder, and started rocking.
Almost 3 years later, the Biscuit still asks for "mommy's shoulder" every night and any time he's sad, upset, or sick.
When he was younger, almost anyone could do mommy's shoulder. To the Biscuit, the burp cloth was mommy's shoulder. As he got older, he's started to correct people (like daddy) who, mistakenly, tried to put "mommy's shoulder" on their own shoulders.
I do adore being needed by my son (and that's probably why this has sustained for so long). Tonight as I sat with him before bed (the Biscuit, on my left shoulder of course), I felt the only 2 minutes of true peace I get in the day.
but... I want my shoulder back. Well, at least I want it back part-time. 40-lbs every day is making mommy's shoulder a bit weary.