A Shrieking Barnacle of Love
June 27th, 2013
My baby is adorable and smiley and extremely good-natured. See? She looks like this:
Until, that is, someone other than me holds her. Then she looks like this:
Don’t blame my mother for her distress. Little Bird responds with similar facial expressions when pretty much anybody else picks her up. She’ll tolerate Josh a bit better and has (finally – thank heavens) established a bond with her babysitter. But gone are the early days of cute babydom when I passed her around my Sunday school class from lap to lap.
Oh no. That doesn’t fly anymore.
The mommy-only phase is totally normal and with Little Bird in particular, it’s not at all surprising. I nurse her. Lots. I carry her around. Lots. And I sleep with her. Lots. Until her summer babysitter started, she and I spent probably 18-20 hours a day together.
Not just in the same room, either. Actually touching.
For twenty hours a day.
Is it any wonder she’s developed a particular attachment to me?
Some days, I’ll admit, it gets a bit wearying. Like when I”m trying to make dinner with her strapped to my chest because she won’t sit with Josh. Or when my arms fall asleep in church because she’s positioned funny and wouldn’t it be nice if she were back in the nursery with Buggie?
But on the whole, I wouldn’t trade these early months for anything in the world. Especially the breastfeeding and the co-sleeping. Nursing is hands down the most rewarding experience of my life and I am quite certain that when I look back on these fleeting days of young motherhood, my best memories will be of sleeping nose to nose with my tiny creatures.
She’s a shrieking barnacle of love. But she’s mine.