Freud, oh Freud

Good old Freud must be turning over in his grave. I used to think Freud was crazy, but, now closely observing my toddler, I am beginning to wonder if Herr Sigmund may have been on to something.

Tim has been gone for a few days, doing the YMCA dance somewhere in the Cascade mountain range with his boyfriends - anyways, that's what I like to imagine he does on "Man's Weekends," as he calls his retreats with his male friends. I don't mean to mock these very important bonding occasions. I think it's wonderful that this tradition has been established and is still going strong.

But back to my little toddler wonder. For the first time this weekend -- and I hope he doesn't announce this to Tim as soon as he sees him -- Jonah has insisted that he wants daddy to stay camping and not come back. "I don't need daddy," he says vehemently as if hoarding me. When asked, he can't really explain why, but he insists this is what he wants. This strange attitude is definitely a new side of Jonah. He must be entering Freud's Phallic Stage of Psychosexual Development. Right on schedule, I might add. This is the stage of the infamous Oedipus complex, when boys become interested in genitalia and must struggle with "the unconscious desire to possess the opposite-sexed parent and to eliminate the same-sexed one."

Just look at this picture. All he wanted to do during my sister's wedding was ride this giant cannon that happened to adorn the courtyard where the ceremony and reception took place. Freud, oh Freud. Maybe you weren't so out there after all.