My sister recently gave birth to her third son. As I spend time holding and rocking the new baby, I think to myself how wonderful it would be to have another baby. They are so tiny and precious. So sweet and cuddly. Little Taylor looks just like a little baby doll. He has the sweetest little newborn cry. Every time I go over there, I make a fool out of myself by talking nonsense to the baby. I say things like, "Who is the sweetest little baby boy? Aren't you Aunt Susie's sweet little boy? You just love your Aunt Susie don't you?". That kind of thing. I need to get on with the business of remarrying and maybe have another baby. After all, I am only 32, not too old yet.
Fast forward to a day or so later I am talking to my closest friend who has a 2 1/2 year old. The thing with me is that I had my girls pretty young. I was 16 when Melissa was born, and 23 when Keri came along. Many people my age are just starting out as parents. So while I am dealing with 4th grade drama and high school, my friends and family are dealing with poopy diapers and midnight feedings. I digress. I am talking to my friend and she is trying to entertain her little one. I told her that seeing my new nephew really made me want another baby, but talking to her was the most effective form of birth control I can think of. Her child is not bad or anything, she is just a typical 2 1/2 year old. She tells me how her little girl got on her bed and threw all her folded clothes in the floor. I listen to her take away a toy baseball bat her daughter just hit her with. I listen to her try to convince her daughter that yes, she will eat the snack that was prepared for her, she asked for it after all.
Yes, it's fun to have small children. They are cute and they say and do really cute things. Now I am having flashbacks of when Keri was a baby. A colicky baby. A baby that for the first four months of her life, cried ALL the time. Everyday. All day long. The only time she didn't cry was when she was eating or sleeping. I walked the floor day in and day out. Some nights I would be falling asleep sitting upright on the couch. At 7pm. Thankfully she outgrew it after a few months. Then she was so much fun! For a while. She didn't really have the "Terrible Two" syndrome. She had the "Terrible Three Through Four" syndrome. She threw fits like I had never seen. She would throw herself in the floor kicking and screaming. It was quite a sight to behold. I have never been the kind of parent to cave when a fit is thrown. Let me tell you I was sorely tempted. Especially that one she threw at Chuck E. Cheese. At first, I would spank her. This only made her scream louder. Eventually I came up with a new idea. Every time she would throw a fit, so would I. I would get on the floor and kick and scream just like she was doing. The first time I did that, she looked at me like I had just landed on Earth from another planet. But she stopped throwing a fit. After I did this for a while she stopped throwing fits all together. I think when she saw how silly it was, and that it was not going to get her what she wanted, she just gave up.
I am skipping around my story telling but that's OK. After all it's my blog. Mine.Mine.Mine. When she was two, I let her go on a trip to Michigan with her dad to visit relatives. Up until this point, she slept in her crib, by herself. No rocking, or anything. I even shut the bedroom door. I think her dad must have had her sleep with him on this trip. When she came back, she would NOT go back in her crib. I let her sleep with me. I pick and choose my battles. At that time, it just wasn't worth it to me to have her scream for hours on end. I was a single mother and I was working very hard.
This lead to her sleeping with me from the ages of 2-5. Part of the reason I had so much trouble getting her to sleep was because she was in daycare. Daycare requirements in NC mandate that children must lay down for two hours. She would sleep for the two hours, and not be able to sleep at night. Also, I was single, so her sleeping with me was not really a big deal.
Right before she started Kindergarten, I began telling her that she was a big girl, and when she started school, she would not be able to sleep with me anymore. She would have to sleep in her own room, in her own bed. I prepped her for several weeks before school started. I knew that the two hour late afternoon naps would be a thing of the past when she started school. It worked like a charm. The very first day of school, I put her to bed in her room. She was so exhausted, she fell asleep immediately. That ended her sleeping with me. School wore her out so much, she didn't have the energy to pitch a fit about having to sleep in her room. She would usually be asleep within ten minutes.
Melissa was such a good baby, it never dawned on me that my next baby might have colick. I knew Keri was going to be a handful when I was pregnant with her. I could just feel it. I just thought she would be into everything. I guess the point of the story is this question-Do I REALLY want to go through all that again? The answer to the question is no. H-E double hockey sticks no!!!!! After all, who would entertain my two readers if I had a baby to chase after?
I will enjoy the thrill of being able to hold and cuddle and play with the little babies, and then go home. AAAHHHHH.......the thrill of just being an aunt!