The ‘Good’ Baby

It happens so often. In grocery stores and malls and parks everywhere. People asking the question that brings prickly stress and annoyance to my soul.

“Is he/she a good baby?”

What does that even mean?!

Please stop asking new moms this question. Just don’t.

Every baby is a good baby.

A baby who sleeps through the night from 4 weeks does not possess more ‘goodness’ than a baby with colic who barely sleeps for the first year.

They are babies. Innocent. Perfect. Beautiful.

There is no such thing as a bad baby.

Some babies are, however, easier than others. It doesn’t make them good.

Some are clingy or have high needs. Being difficult doesn’t make them bad.

Please, I beg you, don’t ask it. It is inappropriate and can make new moms feel awkward. A mom with a high needs baby already has seeds of insecurity about their abilities. Questions like this only help that insecurity grow.

Don’t ask if they’re sleeping through the night yet. Or if they are on an eating schedule.

Ask them how they’re doing.

Ask them if you can do anything to help them out.

Ask if you can pray for them or with them about anything.

Or just tell them what a great job they’re doing.

New moms are incredibly strong and incredibly fragile. They are precious like their sweet babes. Let’s build them up. Growing healthy moms benefits us all. Their weary, beautiful hands are shaping the next generation.

With love,
Mama Miller

P.S.  Baby F is doing well. He eats when he eats. He sleeps when he sleeps. He smiles and he cries. He gives great snuggles. He, like all babies, is a good baby.

Jumping Ship

A beautiful thing happened this afternoon.

I was gearing up for my usual battle of getting K to stay still and quiet enough for me to get E to nap… while nursing Baby F, of course.

Easy peasy, right? *There is sarcasm here if you can’t feel it emanating from your computer screen. I understand some suffer from insufficient sarcasm receptors.*

My weapon of choice today was popping Aladdin in the DVD player. E curled up with me on the couch while I nursed the baby and K settled into the chair.

By the time the movie was over, E was out. K announced I was boring because I said he had to be quiet, so he retreated to his room.

He actually fell asleep!

Husband called on his break just after I got the baby down for a nap.

“Hey honey, what are you up to?”

“I’m basking in the quietness… ”

“WHERE ARE YOU?!”

I am fairly certain he feared that I had jumped ship. The idea of me hoping into the TARDIS with a Time Lord seemed more likely than all three kids being quiet at the same time in the middle of the afternoon.

My Daredevil

Today E tried to scale her brother’s tall dresser.

Husband and I nearly had a heart attack. Most of our big furniture is secured to the wall, but she managed to find the one piece that wasn’t.

This isn’t new for us.

She is fearless.

She climbs and jumps and falls. K is more cautious in nature, but not her.

I’m not sure anything could have prepared me for raising this girl.

Husband and I were cautious kids. We were rule followers. We colored in the lines. I never dreamed that I would have to worry about my toddler scaling the fireplace or running and falling 100 times a day.

I am constantly in awe of her spunk and bravery. She lights up the room with her smile. I want to raise a strong woman, but I also want us all to survive her childhood.

I once saw parenthood described as watching your heart walk around outside of your body. I understand that now.

I’m not sure what my goal is with this post. I think I just needed to put it into words- the worrisome balancing act that is parenting the strong willed, fearless child.

My brain says I need to foster her independence.

My heart wants to wrap her in bubble wrap.  

Cheers

Don’t worry friends- my absence this week is due to juggling three children, not anxiety.

We’ve had a very busy couple of weeks.

I have my moments where I feel like I am tied to my chair nursing, serving as a pillow, and kissing booboos.

Some days I am Super Mom. I handle three kids with ease.

Some days, like today, are hard.

Some days you get to nurse the baby while the toddler throws the mother of all tantrums on your lap and the four year old whines about juice.

But you drink some coffee, put on your big girl panties, and press on.

Let’s toast to our big girl panties.

Here is to pressing on.

Here is to sore boobs and marathon nursing sessions.

Here is to kissing booboos and administering imaginary bandaids.

Here is to making it through the tantrums.

Here is to snuggles and bedtime stories.

Here is to tomorrow being a new day with a fresh beginning.

Here is to their childhood being a compilation of moments that can’t be ruined by an occasional rough day (or week).

I hope you will raise your glasses, coffee mugs, sippy cups, or back-washed beverages in celebration of the beautiful monotonous journey that is parenthood.

Laugh at yourself. Take lots of pictures. Cry when you need to.

We can do this.

Tonight I am going to breathe in new baby, drink some hot tea, and remember why all the hard moments are worth it.

Hint: It’s these sweet little souls.