Parenting is so weird. Like, I spend all day with my babe, loving on him and making him laugh. I love it, itās amazing. But, Iām also counting down the hours until I get some form of break. My body aches, and there has been washing sitting in the machine for three hours, and all naps have been on me, and all meals have been carefully balanced on their spoon so as not to spill on a baby.
Then, the baby decides not to sleep for the night unless his face is directly in front of mine, and his breath is tickling my face. So Iām curled into a motionless ball around him on the edge of my bed, and thereās nowhere to put my arms, and my shoulders are freezing, and I miss being able to sleep more deeply than a shallow crazed dream filled hour.
But, then he sleeps in his own bed and I stretch out in my own, only feet away from him in the dark, enjoying the peace for all of three minutes before I start to wonder.
āWhatās the baby is doing?ā
āGod I love the baby.ā
āWhy is the baby so far away?ā
And then Iām up and looking at him. Or scrolling through videos on my phone. Or talking to my partner about stuff baby has done today. Or telling him I love the baby 800 times. And I miss the baby. Why is the baby not next to me? My umbilical cord does not stretch that far, and I donāt like being without him. Can we wake the baby? Maybe if I just carefully moved him in here with meā¦? Heās probably cold!
Even when Iām dying for a moment to myself, the way I love him is so fierce. Itās so crazy. Itās like he and I are one person, we are a team, a solid entity. He is my life, and I am his, and loving him is what I was born to do. And it doesnāt change, or go away. I still feel this way about my daughter, almost 9 years later. I still find it so strange that sheās off doing things that donāt involve me. That she has a whole life outside of me now that I donāt even know about. I find it harder to sleep when she is not here because my body just somehow feels wrong without the knowledge that sheās just down the hall in her room.
How strange being a parent is. Allowing parts of yourself to break off and grow separate to you like itās no big deal. How weird to think that these people that I grew inside my belly will one day up and leave me. That they have all of their own thoughts and wants and needs that are different from mine. Itās so bittersweet. Knowing that this baby in my arms, whose every breath I know as well as I know my own, will one day be an adult experiencing this life for himself.
Time moves too fast once you become a parent.
The baby can sleep with me tonight.