envy (not the penis kind)

What had been a lovely afternoon of togetherness, sitting in the sunny porch and painting watercolor rainbows on paper, turned suddenly sour when I decided to use two of my creations as end of year thank-you cards for wonderchild's teachers.

I'm not your friend any more.
I want another mother.
I hate you.
I'm not having a good afternoon.

Later he announced he would be appeased only by a milkshake. And I, craven guilty soul that I am, caved. I rushed into the kitchen to make it, thinking: well, at least I can sneak an egg into him this way.

Wonderchild, age 5, wants me to belong entirely to him, to devote my every waking moment and particle of energy to him, to revolve around him as the earth revolves round the sun.

In fairness, I believe he revolves around me. Poor little bunny, what choice does he have? We are alone together so much. Only child, stay at home mom. Not a good formula. No "village." No nearby family, no siblings. He has playmates of course but there's still lots and lots of time that's just "Mommy and me".

Of course that's about to end, though I don't think he quite realizes. First camp, and then kindergarten, will signal the end of our solo afternoons. I'm torn between regret and relief.