Friday, July 9, 2010

The Sweetest Thing

My baby has been exhausted lately. I've been running a lot of errands lately. Mostly because of my inability to remember EVERYTHING I need. 3 trips to Walmart in 2 days? Unreasonable. Maybe the two things are related....

But it's OK because we have a new routine. He falls asleep in the car, and I carry him up the stairs in his carseat.

I set the carseat on the folding table in his bedroom and carry him 5 steps to the crib.

During those 5 steps he burrows into my shoulder and falls back asleep.  He puts one hand on my chest and wraps his outside arm around my shoulder.

And then I take about 100 more steps swaying back and forth in front of his crib loving his little body curled up on me.

Then I battle with myself.

He sleeps better in his crib. Put him down.
But he's so little, and sweet and cuddly. I just wanna hold him forever.
You have too much to do. Put him down.
But lookit how much he loves me. Please can't I keep him?
If you let him nap on you he'll never sleep in his crib again. PUT. HIM. DOWN.
But I don't care if he never naps in his crib again. He's just so sweet. He can sleep on my every day for the rest of his life for all I care.

And then I decide that it's OK for me to rock him for just a few more minutes before the reasonable rational mother that is buried DEEP inside me comes out and puts him down to let him sleep peacefully in his crib.

But the clingy lovey "cherish every moment because he's already too big" mother in my reigns supreme for at least a few minutes.

It might be worth going to Walmart every day just for those few minutes.

4 comments:

  1. Totally worth it. Those are the best moments!

    ReplyDelete
  2. You're such a good mommy! I knew you would be--I knew it!

    ReplyDelete
  3. You definitely have got to take advantage of those moments. :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Song for a Fifth Child

    Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
    empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
    hang out the washing and butter the bread,
    sew on a button and make up a bed.
    Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
    She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

    Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
    (lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
    Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
    (pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
    The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
    and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
    but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
    Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
    (lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

    The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
    for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
    So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
    I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.


    by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

    ReplyDelete

Share |