I've found myself saying that a
lot lately. Mostly when I use my
mouth to clean a dropped binkie, rather than rushing to sterilize it
with boiling
water. Or, when I'm letting Lady Bug chew on something that, while
unusual, is perfectly safe, but is making other people look at me,
scandalized. Or when
she's scooted more than five feet away from me in church, and I
continue to talk to a friend, instead of rushing to get her.
The other day, I had Lady
Bug in my lap (10 months old) not holding on to her, just letting her
sit, balanced. Another mother came over and sat next to me and commented
on how "relaxed" I was, and wasn't I worried she would fall off? Not
really; I can feel the shift in weight and balance before it happens and
grab her before she falls all the way. Plus, we were on grass, so
if she did fall, it would be a soft gravity lesson.
I
wasn't like this with my first baby. With him, I tried so hard never to
make any mistakes. I followed all the advice, and was excruciatingly careful. I put him
in a crib right from the beginning, to spare him the "trauma" of having
to transition to it later. I kept to the food introduction ages right
on target; no exceptions. I made sure I won every tantrum that I (mistakenly, I know now), saw as a
power struggle. I left the house during the "cry it out" training (with
my husband in charge) so I couldn't hear it. I was determined he was
going to be raised the "right" way. By the book.





















