I’m Addicted to Babies
I was never a baby person. I never cooed over babies or wanted to squeeze their soft, chunky thighs. In my twenties, I’d see someone with a baby and think to myself, “That baby stroller is in my way” and then I maneuver around it so I could get to my pedicure and a blowout on time.
Sure, I wanted a baby. Someday. Way into the future. But at that time, I was a lot more interested in flirting with cute guys and having cocktails with friends.
But suddenly some day arrived. I had an infant. And although she was a bit high maintenance with all her crying and feeding, I really dug her. She was gorgeous and amazing and my love for her was beyond anything I could have predicted. I even learned to get a pedicure and a blowout while holding her amazing self.
But I learned something else. Babyhood is fleeting. Suddenly that little peanut turns into a toddler without much warning. The darling baby that stared at you so lovingly begins throwing food and loudly demanding just about everything. And these are kind of unreasonable demands like “find me Elmo slippers” at 2 am. And you start to think – hey this toddler sure is bossy. Maybe it’s time to have another sweet little baby! And so it goes.
My 5th and final baby just turned 10 months old. I was talking to him recently. Honestly, I was doing most of the talking but I could tell we were really connecting. I explained to him that I wasn’t ready for toddlerhood. I adore his babyhood.
But he doesn’t care at all. He just keeps growing and asserting his will.
And suddenly I found myself longing for a baby. Let me recap that for you – even though I have 5 kids and my youngest is 10 months, I am longing for a baby. It’s obviously an addiction. I don’t even want more kids. They do way too much talking. Plus I’m 100 years old and children are expensive.
I’m not the only mom who adores the baby stage. Westchester resident Daryl Woolsey has two kids, ages 5 and 7, but remembers the joy of having an infant. “They are cute and don’t sass. They depend on you 100 percent. You’re their lifeline. And there is nothing like that first smile.”
Connecticut mom Erin Butler is content with her two kids but can easily recall the magic of the first year. “I love how their tiny hands wrap around your finger like they are holding onto dear life. I love how they open their little mouths when you lean in for a kiss.”
But she too, thinks it’s over too soon. “You stumble through the newborn phase and can hardly catch your breath before they are turning one and walking and talking and you look around wondering if you missed it…even though you have the dark circles under your eyes and spit up all over your clothes to confirm you were there the whole time. It’s overwhelming and exhausting, but it’s completely magical.”
I do realize that I’m going to have to let my baby go. I will have to watch Cash become an irrational toddler who throws himself into a weepy heap when he can’t have chips for dinner. Oh, I will love him madly but I will miss his baby self.
Thankfully, the details of babyhood becomes a very fuzzy memory. As we get swept into school schedules, homework and big kid problems, we mostly forget about that baby smell, wispy hair and soft chunky thighs.
Oh how I will miss those thighs.