Stop and Smell The Baby

My daughter is one of those babies who seem to need constant cuddling sometimes during the day. She’s great at night – last night she slept from 9:30 to 5:30 without waking up, at one month old. But sometimes during the day you’ll spend hours walking around with her because she’ll start crying if you put her down.
It can be tempting to complain about that, even just in my head. But I try to keep things in perspective. Maybe it’s easier because I know she might be the only kid we have, or the only biological child we have, considering she wasn’t supposed to be possible. Maybe it’s easier just because I didn’t think I’d get pregnant and hadn’t expected to have biological kids for almost two years, ever since Chris told me he couldn’t, so I don’t take it for granted. But whatever it is, when I find myself thinking wistfully of the pile of laundry I have to do, or the mess in my bedroom, I stop myself and take a good wiff of babysmell. (Anyone says they’ve never sniffed a baby and I’ll call them a liar.)
I mean, really, ten, twenty, and more years down the road, will I look back and say, “Boy, I do wish I had done a few more loads of laundry,” or “Too bad my room wasn’t super neat, wish I could go back in time and clean it up a few more times…?” No, I really truly doubt it!
But would I look back and say, “The laundry could have waited, I really wish I had just cuddled my baby while she was a baby, and stopped to breathe in that baby smell…?” Yes, I’m sure I would! I’ve heard other people say similar things, wishing they’d cherished thier time with thier kids (especially parents of teenagers, wishing they’d enjoyed cuddling thier little ones back when they as parents were “I Love You Mom/Dad You’re My Hero” instead of “I Hate You Mom/Dad You’re So Mean You Don’t Let Me Do Anything”)
So I told The Husband I don’t and won’t feel bad about the laundry pile, and I will stop and smell the baby… to me, that smell is way better than roses, and I know I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing I had if I don’t.

So screw anyone who says I’m spoiling her by cuddling her whenever she cries, I’ll cuddle her when she cries as long as she lives if she’ll let me. That just doesn’t seem like a bad thing, somehow.

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