Baby Jail

Joey was such a delightful baby. He loved to sleep. He loved to cuddle. He loved to swing, for hours. He smiled at everyone and everything. Life was good. As a first time parent, I attributed his peaceful disposition to my remarkable parenting skills. I told anyone and everyone within earshot my formula for producing such a content and happy baby. Some were genuinely curious and seemed to take mental notes. Others just smiled at me with a sly look in their eyes.

Nineteen months later Megan was born. Karma is a witch. I remember lying in the hospital bed praying that the baby I heard screaming down the hall wasn’t being wheeled into my room. I was exhausted. She had cried for hours before I was finally able to get her asleep. I just needed a break for an hour or maybe two. Sigh, they brought her back after only 15 minutes. I discovered that she despised the plastic bucket and could only sleep on my chest in my bed. This, however, was strictly against hospital policy. Oh how I wished the nurse would come in, bust us and take her to the nursery as a punishment. I quickly learned that the nurses do not check on you if you have a crier. Damn. She came out of the womb a strong willed, feisty little thing. She never wanted to miss a thing, sleeping wasn’t a priority. She walked at 7 months. She was lovingly nicknamed “bad girl”. The terrible-twos were named for Megan. Luckily, she grew into a sweet little girl who thrives in the spotlight. She uses her hyper disposition to her advantage in sports.

I learned my lesson. Parenting has nothing to do with the temperament of children.

Julie and Tommy were pretty good babies. They both had rather easy going personalities and they both slept.

Then Johnny came along. You’d think that number five would be a piece of cake, but no. If Johnny was my first he’d be an only child. It isn’t all his fault, ear infections pneumonia and reflux issues have overshadowed his first year. But man, is he the hardest baby ever. He is a mama’s boy, which I adore. But it is really hard to accomplish anything with him in my arms or attached to my chest in the snuggli. He is a lot like baby Megan only he sleeps less and cries more. My mom nicknames him “the pickiest baby ever” at three month. He didn’t want to be held but he certainly didn’t want to be put down. He was able to climb out of the exercisaucer, through the family room, down the hallway and up the stairs in less then a minute at 6 months old. I literally have to keep him locked up in the crib, playpen or walker (at the highest level) at all times or he is into EVERYTHING. He is actually able to climb onto the kitchen counters.

I’ve been eyeing those big superyards at BabiesRus for a few months. Friday one popped up on Craigslist and I snatched it up. The kids quickly coined the phrase Baby Jail. He hates it but I have faith that he will soon grow to love his “baby jail”
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