My name is Amy and I'm a....

Porterholic!

I am seriously addicted to that kid. I start jonesing when it's been too long since I've seen him, and I go through withdrawls when I can't get in his face.

Like yesterday for example...I have had a cold, and using my better judgement, decided I shouldn't pick him up or touch his toys or sit next to him during church. So I pretty much sat there and stared at his chubby cheeks that were just calling to me to nibble on them. Saturday I even considered calling off the plans to have Easter dinner at our house, because I didn't think I could have him in the house and not kiss him to death. I'm an all-or-nothing kind of gal. Just ask the last batch of cookies I made.

I think what is boils down to is that I LOVE being an aunt. Porter is not my first. In fact, I was an aunt before I was a mother. I remember the fun I had with Tyler in the early days of my marriage. That boy brought me a lot of joy during a time of big adjustments. The other nieces and nephews, well...most of them were born around the same time as my crew, and I was entrenched in diapers and bath time and making up silly games of my own. It was hard to fully appreciate what it means to be "Aunt Amy."

Porter has shown me how wonderful it can be. I have been overwhelming him with love since day one. I do not (often) try to take his parents' place, but I could in a heartbeat. I do not fully comprehend what being his primary caregiver entails, but I have questioned Nate if he had given Porter beads before giving him a snack. I do not put Porter on the naughty step, but rather I let him get away with fun things. And I cheered when he cried as I was leaving the other day.

You know how addicts tend to have addictive personalities? Well, there happens to be another little one out there for whom I also have serious cravings. Miss Jenna Pants is severely habit-forming. Oh, how I would love to get my hands on that little girl--with the eyes and the walking and the silly faces. I fall off the wagon everytime I am around her!

I don't know how long my Porter bender will last. He may not put up with me and my desires for snuggling and tickling and chasing and kissing for long. (Goodness knows it's been ages since I've sat with Tyler on my lap!) But I do happen to know one six year old young man who still doesn't mind the occasional cuddle and back-scratch, so maybe I can weasel a few more years of out of this binge. And then there better be another niece or nephew on whom I can unleash my "Aunt Amy" love!