My second baby is spoiled. No going back. I’m not liking it (except for one unexpected and selfish benefit). I’ve conditioned spoiled my infant to be carried, held, scooped up and/or saddled on my hip at all (most) times. I’m that lady with the kid on my hip. Constantly. But I didn’t have a choice:
IT’S FOR HER SAFETY. Can’t leave a 6-month old baby on the floor and go make coffee when there’s a toddler in the house who loves to play rough and doesn’t understand that you can’t pull an infant’s arms in the same way that you drag a baby doll across the room.
My almost-2 year old is fabulously sweet with her little sister (so far), but I’m not leaving anything up to chance. You know those toddlers… they turn on a dime. So what’s the big deal if your baby wants to be carried all the time, you ask? Well, my friend, this goes against my own Momdom rules. I’m one of those ‘let-the-baby-learn-to-entertain-themselves-and-be-away-from-you’ moms… or at least I used to be. Now I’m just a big phony.
Between tickle attacks, this magic little method of mine worked with my first baby like a charm. Once she was past that newborn stage, I’d leave her laying contently in her jungle gym, on the floor, in her Bumbo chair, playpen or wherever was relatively clean and go about my household business when called for. I’d check in with her, give her a kiss, wave ‘hi’ across the room and talk to her constantly… and she learned to be independent. Now (almost 2), she’s generally happy whether I’m hanging on her every word or if she’s playing by herself (minus the fact that I did encourage her own vanity, but that’s another issue).
Back then I had it all figured out. How clever-yet-loving was I? But my little one… OH NO. Leave her in the playpen, highchair or jumper? Waaaaaaa! (That’s a quote.) She has officially come to expect to be carried and held… ALL. THE. TIME. I’ve started going back to my old ways and now just let her complain more and more, and she’s getting a bit better, but I do melt when her pouty lip turns into a sweet smile the second I pick her up. Flattering, yes, but not good in my mommy hood.
But what IS good? My arms. For real. Like, REALLY good if I do say so myself. It’s like I’m weight training with a baby instead of dumbbells 24/7. You should see the tone in my left bicep especially… all thanks to my broken rules. Now is that soooo unfabulous?
WHAT ‘RULES’ DID YOU BREAK WITH BABY #2?