The days and weeks have been blending together so much that wow, is it really July already? Yesterday morning my son ran up to give me a hug and his head plowed right into my stomach. As I doubled over with discomfort, the blow was twofold. When did he get that tall? I spend hours a day looking at him, but in that moment I felt like I was truly seeing him for the first time in ages.
He is getting so big, and yet he still wants me to sit in the rocking chair and sing Rock-a-Bye Baby to him every night before bed. He can dress himself, but he prefers to pretend that he can’t. He can sleep without a binky, but is so much happier when he has it. He can poop in the toilet, but after months of training still flat out refuses to do so.
It was suggested to me recently that my three year old son is not progressing in development as quickly as he should because we baby him. When that happened I was angry and defensive. He’s only three! How can you say that a three year old is immature?
Well, I still struggle with whether or not that comment was appropriate, but it did open my eyes a little. After I stopped projecting my anger outward, I took some time to look inward and noticed in myself a tendency to do everything for him. I was dressing him in the morning because it is faster and I need to get going. I tend to physically put him on the potty because he fights me on it and I need to get it over with before he pees his pants and dinner burns on the stove. I tend to give him a sippy-cup because when he inevitably knocks an open cup over I will need to wash the floor, and I have laundry to do and baths to give, never-mind adding more to my cleaning checklist.
Sometimes I don’t want to deal with the fact that learning is messy and slow. I forget that the messy and the slow are necessary.
Am I doing him a disservice by babying my boy who only wants to be babied? Maybe so, and he is not happy with my attempts to change things. You should have seen the fit he threw last night when we made him put on his own pajamas. “I want you to do it!” he cried.
I suppose this is part of the cycle that I helped to create and we just have to muddle through it, but I also feel that this is part of his personality. *sigh* It took me some time to admit it, but in truth there is a part of both of us that doesn’t want our baby to go.
At least he can eat his own ice cream. I mean, a little dude’s got to have priorities.