I was kind of joking when, before Gatsby was born, I said he was a mama’s boy and didn’t want to leave me and that’s why he hadn’t come out yet. Turns out that may not be too far from the case.
Little man always wants to be held. Like, all the time. Like, hates every infant seat and swing. Like, barely tolerates his bassinet.
If I could snuggle him all day and night, I would. But he has a rambunctious older sister. But I have a house to manage (ha.ha.). But I have to pee sometimes. So I have to put him down and let him cry.
Now that his neck is a little stronger, I can put him in the Boba Carrier to free up my hands a bit. He usually fusses at first and then he falls asleep into a hot little ball of fire on my chest… for a bit. It’s never a cure-all.
I was carrying him in the Moby Wrap but the damn thing is so complicated to wrap and it never felt entirely supportive. I found myself still using a hand to support him, so that was a little counterproductive.
I’m rereading all the stuff about how you can’t spoil your newborn and it’s… comforting. Though in some ways, I do want to spoil the little guy. He’s already getting shafted by his attention-sucking big sister… and just the fact that he’s the second-born.
I wish I could snuggle him more. Maybe not at 4am, but, you know.