Stick with me, baby girl

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Today, my sweet baby decided she wasn’t going to nap on her own anymore. Wait, anymore would imply that she used to do it right up to this point and that isn’t true. She has never napped on her own and today, she made it quite clear that she has no intention of ever doing so.

It hasn’t stopped me from trying though. I’d do the same thing everyday – swaddle, nurse, burp, bounce, gingerly lower her into her swing, activate swing, pray for a miracle. Without fail, she would open her eyes in annoyance the moment her head touches the plush baby pillow, side-eyeballing me in disdain like I had lowered her into a lowly peasant barn.

“How dare you??” her eyes would say. Followed by “HOLD ME FOREVER, HUMAN SLAVE!”

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Put down = instant sian face

When I first heard about attachment parenting, I thought these mothers were unhinged. Have a baby attached to them every minute of every day?!! How will they ever find the time to do important things like enjoy a delicious cookie snack or lie down in bed for a nap?? It sounded nuts.

I would instil discipline! Lock in a schedule! Teach my baby who’s boss around here! In fact, there was a time where I used to be a sleep nazi and while it was delightful to have a baby (Kirsten!) who fell asleep on her own in the cot without fussing (I’d just put her down in the cot wide awake and walk away like its nbd), I’d get really stressed out about nap scheduling and if we were out of sync for like 5 minutes, my cortisol levels would hit the roof.

Now look at me and this little tyrant baby who has permanently fused her body to mine. Attachment parenting, come over here and let’s bond over a cup of coffee.

So I held her close as she slept. Having an infant in my arms all day can restrict mobility and there’s a knot the size of a golf ball on my left shoulder but on the bright side, I discovered that I’m actually really talented at doing things with only one arm. Things like eating cookies and napping ain’t no match for my one-handed-thing-doing skills.

Also, I get to steal kisses on her munchy mantou cheeks any time I want. I get to feel the rhythm of her breathing against my chest as I go about my day. I get to catch the fleeting goofy sleep-smiles flicker across her face; the kind that lights up your day like a supernova but only stays for half a second before it’s gone.

I think having 4 other babies who are growing up far too quickly makes me painfully aware of how little time I’ve got to do this. 12, maybe 18 months more and there will be no more squishy little squishes for me to squish all day. :(

Attach away, baby girl. Mommy will hold you for as long as you want me to.

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