I feel like I have had this post brewing in me for a while with A. No time to write it, and B. Not sure exactly how to convey what I'm thinking without sounding like I'm asking for the Depression Police to come out of the cracks again.
So admission: I don't like babies a whole lot; they're just not my jam. I mean, I think mine are pretty cute, and I love when they smile, but I'm ready for the next stage, and I felt the exact same way during Liam's infancy.
I just can't relate to the moms (or dads) out there who are terribly sad when each piece of clothing is outgrown, or each new thing is their last "first", etc. Many moms seem to be so sad that every second that passes is just a magnified step closer their baby is taking to leaving the nest. Maybe I'm not explaining that correctly because it's not me that I'm describing, but that is my perception.
I feel like I'm the opposite of that, in fact. Each metaphorical step my babies take, or each skill they learn, makes them one step closer to being cool little people with personalities. I guess they become someone that I can relate to more easily? I don't know.
Liam was a fussy baby. Not constant-colic fussy, but pretty darn fussy. He was sick a lot with every respiratory ailment he could pick up, and he he reflux. So D and I were both just kind of wishing the time away until L was content. So we could all be content. And it came. It turned us from people who didn't think we wanted another child, who didn't think we could handle it again, to people who wanted to give this cool little kid a cool little sibling.
And so here we are. Two siblings. Two siblings who are seven months old tomorrow, who are still babies. And I wish they were older, that time was passing quicker, again. Not because they are so fussy; in fact I think both are less fussy than Liam was, but because they're still babies. And babies still aren't my thing. And now I know how it can be, how it might be, when they are a little older. And I can't wait.
5 comments:
I think this is perfectly normal. I know so many women who are the same way. And while I do get sad with putting the smaller clothes away and I like to reminisce about how tiny K was in my arms, I love the fact that she's becoming a person. Her laughter, her personality, the way she learns new things. I love this age so much more, and I know I'm sure I'll continue to feel that way as she gets older. Except for maybe when she becomes a teenager. Then I'll probably wish she was a tiny baby who couldn't talk back. ;-)
What, are you kidding? Babies are pretty boring most of the time! I can't wait until mine are finally talking. So far it's getting better every day. The first few months I was like, "Is this going to get any more interesting soon? Because I can't take it much longer!" LOL!
As you've probably gathered from my posts, I don't share your feelings on this topic. . . but I get it, and I have close friends who have felt the same way. (Two in particular really struggled through the baby phase and now have school-aged kids whom they adore and enjoy immensely.)
I guess the good news, as you know, is that this baby phase *is* very time-limited by its very nature. I often say that no one should become a parent because she likes babies; she should become a parent because she likes CHILDREN because the "baby" will be a child for many more years than s/he will be a baby.
Preach.
Someone I know is always in a panic because WHAT IF THIS IS THE LAST TIME I NURSE/ROCK/BABY-WEAR MY BABY AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW IT? etc etc
The first two months of infancy were so terrible for me. I had no clue what I was in for. After that, I really enjoyed watching him grow and reach milestones. The first two months were just DAMN HARD.
Amen sister. I'm ready for the constant whining from Evan to stop. Ella is a complete delight and so easy going. Evan, on the other hand, is so demanding. Our CEO... Ugh!!! There are fun moments, but overall I'm looking forwar to each new thing moving forward.
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