The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
I was laughing with a friend this morning about the time (s) I crawled into Gracie's crib with her when she was smaller. At 3:00 am when you desperately need sleep, it seemed like the only logical thing to do...and probably went against every parenting book in the history of parenting books.
Do I regret it? Not at all.
When I gave birth to Gracie, I (like most people) had NO CLUE what to expect. In my case, I was in disbelief that I actually got bring this living, breathing creature into my home. I spent the first three months of her life trying to do everything "right". We were both pretty miserable.
I tried not to hold her when she slept...she screamed and I cried. I held her when she slept...and instead of enjoying it, I felt guilty because that isn't what you are "supposed" to do, right? I did a million things that, in hindsight, went against my better judgement because I was so afraid of getting it wrong.
After about three months, I gave up. I held my baby-a lot. I rocked her to sleep every night (and still do when she lets me). Sometimes, I crawled into bed with her. Sometimes, I let her crawl into bed with me. I carried (carry) her after she could walk. I loved doing those things.
Because this time in our lives is going really, really quickly. My tall two year old no longer expects me to crawl into bed with her- and in fact shouts "MY ROOM!" half the time Parke and I even dare to cross the threshold. She wants to hold my hand more than she wants to be carried. She wants to feed herself, dress herself- she wants to be herself. That's what should happen when you grow up. I can't for the life of me remember what I was so afraid of those first three months- that I would be rocking her to bed when she was thirty? I wish! (Kidding...kind of.)
I love this age with Gracie, she is my best little friend. We laugh, we tell jokes...she gets sent to time out ten times a day. I don't exactly wish she was a baby again, but I do think of all the days and nights I've spent with her on my chest and I am thankful for every one of them.
As for Sam, I hope I remember the lesson of "the first three months" and spare us both the misery of doing it "right". After all, babies don't keep.