Baby girl loves being held more than almost anything (except for eating). Yes, she will sleep in bed, or for a short time in the Rock n Play, but she likes life best when she’s being rocked and walked around in circles for ages. She’s been fussy this past week, too; if she’s not in motion, she’s not a happy girl. If she’s not attached to a boob, she’s cranky. And though I want to just sit and snuggle with her, and carry her around, sometimes Mama’s gotta pee. You know, or make lunch. Or take a shower.
So I’ve been trying a few new things. And though they are wonderful, I can’t help but feel a little guilty. And this is the first episode of irrational mommy guilt.
We borrowed a swing from some friends at church. And because of the constant movement, Kennedy will even sit in it while she’s awake. Without crying! For at least 15 minutes! This is fantastic, you’re thinking. And it is. But every time I set her down in that swing, and take a two-handed sip of tea or bite of lunch, I feel guilty. She wants to be rocked, and I’m using a machine to rock her. And then I chastise myself, because I so badly wanted her…and now holding her is too tough for me?? These are the thoughts that a plastic contraption stir up.
The pacifier is another source of guilt. Kiddo likes to suck. So much so that she would nurse almost constantly if she could. And I know that, several times a day, it’s just comfort nursing. So, occasionally, when my boobs are killing me and I know she can’t possibly be hungry, I give her a pacifier. And she uses it for about 5 minutes before spitting it out. Just long enough for the crying to stop, me to regain some composure (and maybe apply some lanolin), and her to doze off briefly. So why am I so torn up about those five minutes of pacifier time? Because irrational mommy guilt says “do you know how many women would kill to be able to breast feed? And you’re avoiding it because you’re uncomfortable?”
These are the things I struggle with, though I am fully aware that there is nothing wrong with a swing, a pacifier, or 20 minutes of mommy-time.
What irrational guilt do you struggle with?