I'm Doing Everything Wrong

I'm doing everything wrong when it comes to parenting. And it is working for my boy and I.

Let me preface this by saying that I believe parenting styles are extremely personal things, and each mother-child unit is completely unique. I also believe that there are no strict doctrines regarding every situation one will encounter while raising kids, so if I claim to be an adherent of "Attachment Parenting", I can still make choices that fall outside that category if my instinct or logic (hopefully both!) dictate otherwise. I give this disclaimer because I don't wish to be misunderstood as criticizing mamas who don't do what I do. You have a unique, private, special relationship with each of your kids which cannot be replicated.

As I get ready to welcome baby boy #2 into our home, I have taken to perusing the pregnancy and "What to Expect" type books whenever my toddler and I hit up the bookstore. These are full of great information and amazing pictures showing how my little one is developing inside me. I enjoy sharing these pictures with my son, who usually smiles coyly and goes back to playing with the train set that is cleverly placed in Barnes and Noble next to all kinds of fascinating and expensive toys. Some of these books touch on the things I'll need to "train" my baby to do after he is born. Most of the suggestions make me giggle.

I really thought I was going to be the mom with rules and a clever schedule, since I'm notoriously A-type and choleric in every other aspect of life. Sleep training, spaced out feedings, and pacifiers were all part of the deal. So how did I go from thinking babies need to be "trained like puppies" - a statement that was bandied about by my husband and I during my pregnancy with the superiority of those with zero experience - to believing in my heart that my baby was equal to me in dignity and sometimes superior in intelligence?

It began with the crunchy indoctrination that I experienced taking natural childbirth classes. Allusions to attachment parenting and early bonding were made, wherein babies get fed on demand, sleep with their parents in the bed, and do all manner of other strange things. It sounded like a great way to lose a lot of sleep and raise a spoiled brat, so at first I wasn't on board. And then my baby came along and taught me otherwise.

When my son was born, he was immediately put on my belly and I called his name. He raised his head (strong neck!) and looked right at me. And that was it - I was his willing slave. I slept with him in the crook of my arm during the remaining 48 hours of my hospital stay, and there was no putting him into a crib after that. From the beginning, he wanted to nurse constantly, so I did because: 1) what the heck else did I have to do? and 2) it was easier than not nursing him. I let him fall asleep at the breast because, again, it was easy - AND it knocked me out, too! I have had trouble sleeping for many years, and the best sleep I've ever gotten came after having a baby.

What other weirdness have I indulged in? Let's see - I carried my son everywhere in my arms or in a soft carrier, and declined letting others hold him as much as politeness would allow. For about a year. I didn't have a desire to leave him and go out alone for "me time" (ok, I admit that has changed a bit, haha!), and I don't think my husband and I really went on a date until he was around 9 months old. I still like to hold him while he naps.

I continue to break rules. My son isn't potty trained yet, though he is making strides naturally, and I applaud his every effort to keep clean and be aware of his body. We still nurse, though the frequency has diminished (mixed feelings there). I may tandem nurse when the new baby arrives, depending on the vibes I get from my older son. He still sleeps in our bedroom, and I can't imagine a night without a little nursing or a few cuddles (or ninja kicks to the face). When he takes a fall or gets hurt, I run to him, usually shouting, "Oh my darling, are you alright? Can mommy kiss you?" instead of remaining aloof and saying, "you're okay, get up". He usually responds with a shrug and resumes playing, unless he's very badly hurt. I can't imagine falling on my face in a public place and not having someone show concern, even if it's just a scrape!

I don't make him share. Just because he arrived at the Lego table at some store does not mean the other kids have to relinquish their toys to him. We can take a walk and come back when they've had their fun, which teaches my son about delayed gratification. I don't expect him to give up his personal toys when we are at the pool or playground just because someone else wants to play. Sometimes an item will get snatched out of his hands and then I wait to see what he'll do, which is usually to pick up a different toy until the grabber drops the original item he desired. I don't share my things with strangers, so if I'm not modeling a behavior, why would I demand that he do so?

It's funny how these things don't seem "fringe" or "extreme" to me any longer. I just listened to my son, and he told me what he needed. He probably took a little longer than some babies to sleep through the night, or let me go out on a date, but I feel like I'm starting to reap some of the fruits of this relationship we've created. He certainly isn't impervious to age-appropriate behaviors like occasional tantrums and picky eating habits, but I feel like there is a lot of love, mutual respect and trust between us - and that's all I ever needed.

I don't know what I'll be doing with baby #2 in terms of sleep arrangements, nursing "schedule", or discipline yet. What I've learned is that no amount of planning will prepare me for the task of mothering this new, unique child, and I'm hoping to fret less and just listen to my baby.