the pieces of my life

Everyone wants to be loved. Especially by the cutest baby ever. But it can be frustrating when you’re the only one the cutest baby loves. Don’t get me wrong, he still coos and smiles and flirts with Adam. But the Doodlebug has a clear preference for me. When Adam’s holding him, the Doodlebug’s looking for me. When the Doodlebug starts his regular evening scream (and it is regular now, o joy of joys), Adam can try for over an hour to quiet him. He rocks, he gives him a finger to suck on, he paces, he rubs. Nada. Then, within one minute of transferring the Doodlebug to my arms, silence. As long as I’m holding the Doodlebug, all is quiet (I can’t, of course, put him down; that would never work. In fact, even now, once again, I’m bloggin’ with the Doodlebug asleep on my lap). I’m torn between feeling happy that my Doodlebug wants me and miserable because no one is able to regularly put him to sleep, which means I’ll be more reluctant to leave him. Naps are bad, too: He’ll only sleep if we’re out of the house (there are only so many errands I can do) or if I lay down with him. You know, in the beginning, I swore I’d never let my child cry it out. Now, I swear, six months to the day, we’re Ferberizing. Here’s to hoping he gets with the sleeping program on his own by then.

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