Primalizafied

Yes, I’m making up words now. Call it too much spare time (ha!), call it too little education. But I like it. And it’s my laymen's term for keeping things simple and following the Back to Basics mentality when it comes to parenting.  I like to think of how animals raise their babies. Ape's don't drop off their kids with grandma, or use the Ferber method... Yes, I understand there is a distinction. I walk upright, can drive a car, and have never, ever, thrown my poop. 

(i feel the need to point out that I'm not judging anyone, just making a funny)

I have to say Motherhood has surprised me in so many ways. I’m not saying I deserve an award or anything or have really even been challenged yet, but I’m rather delighted by how naturally taking care of Leah has come to me. Not always easy to do, but the inclination has come fairly effortlessly. It is however occasionally sidelined by the knowledge of urban myths, horror stories, and the basic yet all too real irrational fear of accidentally killing my child. I’m also very surprised by how “granola” my outlook and preference is in regards to taking care of and providing for her. I suppose you could file me under Attachment Parenting, but I hate to commit to or lump myself in to any one singular belief. Before having Leah, when I thought about what kind of parent I would be, I imagined mostly outlines of integrating her into our family, rather than changing our way of life to accommodate her. It’s not that I didn’t think having a baby wouldn't change things, and maybe it was just the naiveté of a first time expectant parent, but I really thought I would want to implement a much more rigorous schedule that would make her adapt to our lifestyle . But now that she’s here, call it the “you never know until you’re in those shoes” effect; but in my head, conforming our lives around her needs makes more sense than attempting to teach an infant to live like an adult. Now I will say, I think we’ve been blessed with a very easy baby. But so far working around her demands has gone pretty well. I don’t let her cry much. Most of her fussiness stems from being overtired and I make every attempt to soothe her while she’s upset. I carry her around a lot, that’s not to say she doesn’t get plenty of floor and tummy time while I watch her from the kitchen or fold laundry on the couch. And when in public I’m almost always wearing her. (LOVING the moby wrap, btw) Will this backfire on me someday? Maybe. But right now she’s a pretty happy baby, which makes for a very happy momma and daddy. I look at this method as a lifestyle choice. I didn’t choose to have a baby so I could keep living the same existence, I wanted something different. So it’s not a sacrifice for me; it’s a way of life.

As far as my plans for sleep training goes, I am remarkably grateful to say she started sleeping through the night on her own before I could get halfway through the No Cry Sleep Solution book I bought. I take no credit for this, and instead give it all to her thumb. Because during the week when she discovered it, she instantly learned how to self soothe. So because of her thumb I am sleeping through the night along with her. With the exception of getting up around 1am to change her. I am working to teach her to learn how to fall asleep by herself, but I don’t let her cry in the process. I rock her and shush her to the point where she is almost asleep, and then I set her down in her crib, eyes mostly open, and leave the room. About 65% of the time she will roll over and go to sleep. I know this because we have a video monitor. Other times she flips around and sometimes talks herself to sleep. But I leave her be unless she starts to cry. Then I go in and start the process over. Will this bite me in the ass someday? Maybe.

I sleep with her stuff. Her blankets, her clothes. This probably sounds nuts, let me explain. She has two main swaddling blankets. Yes, I still swaddle, but I leave one arm out. I sleep with whichever one she is not using, that way she can always smell me. And the night before the days that I work, I tuck whatever outfit she is going to wear between my nighttime nursing bra and my nightgown, so she can smell me all day, not just at nap time. Weird maybe, but harmless.

She's on the verge of six months and we all know what that means: Solid foods. While I am generally ecstatic to witness each milestone, this one makes me a bit sad. Because I won't be exclusively breastfeeding anymore. I'm thankful to say breastfeeding has gone very well for me, us. And I have loved every minute of it. It's our special quite time together. And it's a fabulous excuse to leave the room when I'm over the company that's in my house. For some reason she nurses just a bit longer then... I do plan to BF for a while longer. Probably into the range of what they consider Extended Breast Feeding. The AAP recommends supplemental BF'ing up to 24 months. I'm not saying I'll be the one whipping out my girls at the park for a snacky-snack. I honestly see it as more of a morning and bedtime routine when she's that old. But who knows, she may not want it that long, or my body may not cooperate to that extent. We'll just have to see. The moral of the story is, this is one more step towards her not breastfeeding anymore, and I'm sad to think of it ending.

I guess my reason for this post is to justify what floats around in my silly little brain and to silently address the people who think it's their right to critique my method of parenting. Who I won't even bother to respond to, who have much older or grown children who say; "Go out, you need a break!" Actually, I don't. I like this job. This is what I signed up for. This is my new life. And I don't want to miss a single second of it.