I write this as my baby lays next to me… screaming. She’s one of those babies. You know the type – the clingy ones, who don’t want anything to do with anyone but their mothers. I’m currently trying the whole “cry it out” thing, in attempt to train her to sleep by herself. I don’t know who this is harder for – me or her. You see, my baby is a leech. And I secretly love it.
It hit me one day, when my sister said “I wish someone loved me that much,” after observing my daughter’s admiration for me. It’s just what I needed to hear when I was starting to feel overwhelmed with the baby who, simply put, won’t let me put her down. My daughter loves me. She loves me so much. My cuddles comfort her more than anything else. If there ever was a time that I was searching for my purpose in life, I think I’ve found it. Thanks to this little peanut. I can’t complain, because I don’t know how long this phase will last. From what I hear, one day she will become a teenager and she will probably hate me. I sure hope this isn’t the case, but it definitely makes me want to hold onto these sweet moments a little longer.
At times, it feels as if I have a parasite attached to my hip. I can’t eat, sleep, shower, shop, or even go to the bathroom by myself. But guess what? I wouldn’t trade my little leech baby for anything in the world.
And in the time it took me to write this, my sweet baby girl has fallen asleep. By herself. It’s a bittersweet moment for me. Part of me is jumping for joy at the thought of sleeping in my own bed tonight. But there’s another part of me that is sad. My baby is growing up. She won’t be my leech forever. But I can fall asleep tonight knowing that she will probably need me in a few hours. And I confess, I’m looking forward to that 2am wakeup call.