Baby Love, My Baby Love

Can a baby be over-loved?

Can a baby be held too often, smooched too frequently, adored too much?

The books all say babies should learn early on to play quietly and put themselves to sleep.

As a total sidebar – I have just now noticed that practically all of my parenting angst starts with “the books all say.” Why do I read? That was stupid. Anyway, back to my point… sorry to slow you down.

On second thought, maybe they have a point about his head...

My particular baby lives with an aunt and an uncle who regularly vie for a turn to hold and play with the nano (Nano cabezón they call him, Baby Bighead. Yeah, Spanish is weird). And we are currently living with my parents. As this is their very first grandbaby, you can imagine that there’s plenty of snuggle time there too. And of course, there’s my husband and me – we kinda like us some Troyboy lovin’. That’s six big people for one little dude. Six people who absolutely love the stuffing out of baby. And who wouldn’t, really? He’s such a charming, cuddly cutie-pie with P-L-E-N-T-Y of stuffing to love! One squeaky little chuckle and anything bad that happened in the day melts away.

With a 6:1 ratio, the baby doesn’t spend a substantial amount of time by himself in our house. This is a really great thing for me. What new (or not so new) mom wouldn’t want to suddenly sprout three or four extra pairs of hands? The other day, my mom and I were musing on how I have never had to learn to cook one-handed or take the babe to the bathroom with me.

And while I gratefully luxuriate in a couple extra minutes in a hot shower, sometimes I worry that this is bad for the baby. He definitely does not care for alone time. Part temperament and part custom, he loves to be the center of attention. If we put him in the swing while we eat dinner, he fusses but if he’s in his bumbo on the table with us, he is all smiles. And joyous exclamations. And all-limb wiggles.

Are we ruining this kid with affection?

I am inordinately worried that my child will be the kind of hideous brat that everyone hates and secretly murmurs, one to another, “what terrible parents that child must have.” And while that sentence might be ridiculous, as well as grammatically awkward, I can’t shake the fear.

I remember people always used to tell my mom what wonderful, polite, children she had. And she would smile somewhat wryly knowing full well that we were only angels in public. In private my sister and I were often tattling (Pam), scratching (me), bickering (both) little shits. While I would obviously like to have perfectly behaved children in every single moment, I think maybe publicly tolerable kids is the best you can hope for. I would be thrilled to be as successful a mother as my mom was.

Of course, maybe my muriphobia (I was trying to find a fancy word that means “fear of being a bad mother” but all I could find was “fear of mice.” That’s similar, right?) is running amok and over-loving a baby isn’t a real thing.

As I watched Troycito snoozing peacefully away in Juli’s arms last night, my knee-jerk reaction was to bemoan the missed opportunity to plop him in his crib the second he looked sleepy so he could learn some bedtime independence. But then I thought, he is so little and fragile and innocent. The world is an awfully hard, cruel place; is it so bad to let someone feel safe and secure for a while? I want my son to develop things like discipline and self control but I also want him to know, I mean really know down in his bones that he is loved. And that, at least for right now, he is safe in our arms.

Maybe all the books say to teach your child independence as soon as possible because most people don’t have nearly unlimited baby holding help. I could see a frazzled mom benefiting greatly from this advice. But I have been immensely (awesomelyhugelyohmystarsIamsostinkinglucky) blessed to have so many wonderful, available people who love my boy as much as I do. So Troy will get snuggles and I will hold tight to my sanity and hope he turns out ok.

And, as I flaked out on a Christmas letter this year, or any kind of year-end blog post – I will just wish that in this new year each and everyone one of you will know

deep down in your bones

that you are loved.