My baby is more than 4 months old and she doesn’t roll over. Well. To be fair, I don’t put her down long enough for her to learn how to roll over.
She’s my last baby. And, a baby I wanted for so very long. I look into her eyes and the long road to get here is a distant memory.
I have last baby-itis. I hold her all the time. I kept her in newborn diapers more than three months because that is the last newborn diaper I will ever put on a baby of mine. I have a hard time moving her up into bigger-sized clothes.
I still swaddle her.
I let her sleep the way she sleeps best. I don’t rush anything that makes her grow up.
I have only recently forced myself to put her down for a few minutes so she learns to play independently. But, she knows that if she cries, one of us will pick her up and play with her.
I wish I could not see those perfect little eyes at 3 a.m., but when I do, I rock her a little longer. I snuggle her a little tighter. Only my own exhaustion forces me to put her back down.
She smiles and coos. She lights up when I come into her room in the mornings. I can put her to sleep quicker and easier than anyone else and she sleeps best in my arms. Right now, I’m the funniest person she knows.
She doesn’t talk back, mock me, roll her eyes, stomp her feet or stare into my eyes and do exactly what I said not to … (like her sister.)
She will get there. She will get bigger and bigger and want me less. She will be too big to sleep in my arms. She will not cuddle with me while she drinks her bottle. She will (hopefully soon) sleep through the night. And, she will grow out of her tiny baby clothes.
It will all happen fast. Way too fast.
So, I will continue to hold and rock her. And, I won’t apologize when the doctor wonders why she isn’t rolling over. She doesn’t need to know how to roll over in order to get into kindergarten. I checked.
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