You’re spoiling him.
You’re reacting to his whimpers too soon. He’ll never learn to soothe himself and put himself to sleep.
You don’t always have to hold him. This is why you’re not getting anything done around the house.
If you keep feeding on demand, he’ll never get on a schedule and he’ll never sleep through the night.
I hear those voices in my head. All. Day. Long.
I am not following what “the books” say to do. I am not even really doing “my own” thing. I’m letting Little One lead; I’m simply responding to him. I justify it by saying, “I’m 42 years old. He’s likely my last baby. I’m savoring every moment.” There’s truth to that, right? It’s all about the moment – to treasure and to enjoy. But, even if I weren’t in my 40s, there is nothing wrong with living each day, each moment simply to cherish my Little One.
He’s only three weeks once.I’ll never have this snuggle time with my one month old.
He won’t always be content to sleep on my chest, curled up in a ball.
He is only this little for a little while.
He won’t breastfeed forever.
I hear those voices in my head. All. Day. Long.
As a young mom, I remember being told that kids grow up so fast. And they do. I’ve witnessed that with Little One’s older siblings (who are all teenagers now). There are moments from their lives that I missed or don’t remember, because I was too wrapped up in something else.
I think of the phrase, “This too shall pass” and it’s bittersweet. Sure, I’d love to sleep eight hours through the night. Sure, I’d like to make it through the day, not having to check in the mirror for leak marks on the front of my shirt. I’d like to not trip over the bouncy seat I forgot I left next to the couch. It would be nice to spend my break time at work 
talking with colleagues rather than pumping. I’d love to have room in the trunk to put things, instead of playing this monster game of Jenga now that the stroller takes up so much space. I’d like to sit with my family at Mass instead of listening to the homily from the back of church where I can stand and rock Little One. Sure, I’d like to carry a cute purse, but honestly I don’t have enough hands to carry Little One, his diaper backpack and a cute purse.
But, in the same breath, you’ll hear me say, “I wouldn’t trade this time for anything in the world.”
So, forgive me, Little One as I hold you and snuggle with you and go against every “what you should do” rule in those motherhood books I read. I want to relish every moment, enjoy your littleness, capture the sweetness of this time, and cherish you for the blessing you are. There will be time for schedules and routines; there will be time for cute mama outfits and accessories without worrying about breastfeeding; there will be time.
But for now, it is all about you. I have been blessed with you, Little One. I know you will grow up so quickly. And I choose to have my world wrapped around you, my sweet Little One. Forgive me for ignoring all those voices and know I do what I do because I love you so.
Beautifully said!! This post shares true joy at your newest gift of Motherhood! Thank you for sharing and you keep doing exactly what you are doing! Awesome job! And, such a sweet, handsome little fellow.
We had kid number 3 when I was 38 and enjoyed her so much that we opted to have another one — he was born when I was 42. My biggest concern was that I would not have the enthusiasm and energy to meet their needs as we all grew older. They are both well into their 30’s now and, like their older sister ( now 48) and brother, have added nothing but joy and love to our lives.
Your perspective changes. You have “been there– done that” and are comfortable doing what works for you, baby, and family. Priorities also change. We laughingly have said that if kid number one or two threw a ball in the house and broke a lamp, we would have have felt like “the roof had caved in!” If kid number four did the same thing we would have murmmured something to the effect of,” Kid’s got a good pitching arm.”
While our two older kids were always expected to participate in household chores, I made a point of not expecting them to become “built in babysitters.” If I had occasion to ask — they were scheduled and paid as though we were hiring another teenager.
We have always been, and remain, a close knit family who really enjoys one another. While the two older ones lived / worked at Yosemite for a number of years, they eventually returned to Texas and lived near us. Grandkids — ranging from 22 to 8 — are an added blessing. The strength of our bonds and love was never so evident as when we lost the second oldest last year. Tim suffered a heart attack at age 43. The hole will always be in our hearts, but together — with God — we are finding it easier to remember the fun memories rather than the grief. I am not sure how I could have “made it” without not only the oldest — but also the younger two.