Not surprising, we’re much more adventurous and relaxed with you, lil girl, than we were with you, Oliver. In some ways, we have to be. I mean, brother’s needs still drive a good bit of our day–like dropping off and picking up from school, and if you’re noisy, O, a nap for you, lil momma, just ain’t happening.
All this is to illustrate our more relaxed approach to parenting this time ’round: the pacifier drops on the floor, and we make sure there’s no visible dirt or Triscuit hair on it, and then we pop it back into your mouth. We don’t pay much attention to the clock, trusting instead that you’ll tell us what you need, (and to be fair, there’s a finite number of things it usually is. :)) There was no convincing us of that with you, lil man; every cry had us seriously investigating what rare disorder you might have and worrying about the implications for your mental development with every missed nap.
Tonight, on Father’s Day, a week after the introduction of your first brown rice cereal, we gave you avocado, sis. We weren’t sure exactly what you thought, but you swallowed most of it. I really like thinking about all of the flavors that are on your horizon.
As I sit here–dinner cold and half-finished, movie on pause, a bit beaten down, because you’re crying for the third time since we put you down an hour ago–I wonder if some of these loosey-goosey parenting techniques are the way to go, or of we might be creating a monster.
Sweetly asleep on Daddy’s chest now… on this Father’s Day. No monster. Just an angel.