For awhile I’ve joked that anytime Noah starts to make signs of working towards crawling, I flip him over to keep him away from becoming mobile. Unfortunately, there’s some truth to that.
I’m scared. How can I possibly handle three mobile beings? But now that he’s a mere eight days away from the seven month mark, I’m starting to feel extra guilty.
The kid spends his days in a seat of sorts (most commonly his car seat) or on my hip. That has sorta become his entire existence. In my defense, I am partially working to keep him safe from his extremely over zealous sister who would like to smother him with love.
He is the first child that I didn’t have to leave with a sitter at a way too young age. I had hopes for days spent shaking rattles, cooing and gazing into each other’s eyes. Instead, I’m carting him around like luggage to the myriad of things I must do in a given day. To make matters worse, I’m frequently frazzled and frustrated when he has a need while I’m doing all the many things that occupy my life.
He is the cutest, sweetest little thing (and at this point my favorite since he has yet to have a tantrum or tell me he hates me). He deserves a mom that can dedicate herself to helping him learn to sit up, who is diligently marking every milestone in his baby book and slaving away making homemade organic baby food. And instead he has me 🙁