She's not the worst baby in the world.

I was complaining last night about how I can never leave my baby, within an hour my husband is phoning me, saying she needs me. I felt resentful. I was angry at my husband because he couldn't handle her. I was jealous of my friends with their freedom - all of THEIR husbands were at home putting THEIR babies to bed, and I showed up late, and had to leave early, because my baby SUCKS.

Today I was tired, and headachy, and I was trying to vacuum and baby was whining becuase she hates the vacuum. I was pissed off because I hate it that I can't vacuum because she cries, and I hate it that I have a messy house and I never get to stay out for more than an hour and I need to work more and it's not happening because now she's having 45 minute naps. And she was whining and I got mad and I picked her up and sat her down on the couch, not gently, and left her there while I finished the vacuuming. Then my husband came up and picked her up, surprising me, and I felt really ashamed because I wasn't being nice to her.

Tonight just before bed I read my favourite blog. I don't usually have these epiphanies when I read knitting blogs, but Stephanie really makes me think.




She was talking about children, and how they're people too, and how those people need their mummies, some more than others. And as I read it, I realized, it's not ME. I'm not putting up with this baby because I'm a sucker and I can't figure out how to make her sleep better without me. And she won't settle for Dan, not because he's not trying hard enough, but because she's stubborn and wilful and knows what she needs. It's not just what she wants, it's what she needs, and thank goodness she's persistent enough to remind us where our priorities should be right now.

My baby is fine. She's perfect. She just needs her mommy. A lot. More than most kids, definitely. And that's just the way she is right now. And what am I going to accomplish by trying to break her from that? I'll probably traumatize her. You should see how excited she gets when I come home after walking to the store 15 minutes away. She squeals, she jumps up and down, oh my God it's unbelievable, why would I want to detach from that? It's priceless, it's pure joy.











So no, I don't need to work those extra hours, I need to cut back on my spending so I don't have to work those hours. I don't need to go out to girls' night, I can host it here. I don't need to get mad at Dan when he can't get her back to sleep, I need to love him for trying so hard and help him figure this daddy thing out.

I'm going to log off, and go upstairs, and cuddle my baby in my bed and stop thinking about what everybody else thinks. She's perfect.



BTW - The photos in this post are about a month old, by the way, when we went to Chicago. I'll put some new photos up as soon as I can find the #$!#^% USB cable. And that stands for a word that starts with mother and ends with ucking. But this is a G-rated blog (more or less - the party last night was a passion party...oh my...)