I sat in the quiet bedroom rocking my eight month old daughter, and I took in the scene around me. The new king sized bed had arrived and it was large as anticipated. Perhaps larger. At its set up I realized some of the things in my bedroom would need to go if we were going to be able to walk around the bed, and most of the clutter in my room was baby stuff anyway.
When you have a baby they’re so very tiny, but their stuff is not. I don’t suppose you have to have all of those “things,” but it certainly does ease your sanity a bit. A swing when naps are hard to happen, or an exersaucer toy to hold interest just long enough to cook breakfast for the rest of the family. With walkers and music toys, blankets on the floor, some days it seems like my house is exploding with baby stuff. Factor in a five year old’s Barbies and a three year old’s stuffed animals and our living room looks like Toys R Us vomited everywhere.
When I saw the state of my bedroom after my new bed arrived I just wanted some semblance of normal. I carried the baby swing to the nursery. I folded up the walker at the end of the bed. And I looked begrudgenly at the enormous rocking recliner saddled beside the foot of my massive new mattress.
Where would I put that?! I actually used it several times a day. The nursery maybe? The one she didn’t sleep in?!
Sigh.
But as I used that very rocker to lull my baby into napland the obvious yet easily overlooked came to mind. At its cruel truth tears came to my eyes and I realized I wasn’t ready to move my rocker after all.
You won’t be rocking her much longer. Soon she’ll fall asleep on her own just like the others.
I looked down at that precious, fat face and I kept rocking. She was out like a light, but I kept rocking. I looked around at my cluttered room, and I didn’t care. One day all I’d have is time. All I’d have is open space. I’d probably move a piece of furniture out of boredom and collapse into tears at a wayward Shopkin left behind.
If having three daughters has taught me anything it’s that the baby phase doesn’t last long at all. One day you’re up all night long, but the next thing you know you come home from work and they don’t even give you a hug. They’re too busy.
I rocked that baby and I said to her, “slow down.” She was my last daughter, and I’d gladly hold her all day, be up to my eyeballs in stained sleepers, and squeeze through all the baby paraphernalia if it meant moments like this. Sweet smells of baby shampoo, sleepy sighs from her pouty mouth, and simply the way her small body rested so perfectly in my lap. Slow down and let me soak it up a little longer, my darling. It would all be gone in a blink.
We had upgraded to the larger bed for the children anyway. They all were eager to snuggle up beside us when bedtime arrived, and that was just fine by me. One day they wouldn’t want to sleep by Momma or Daddy. One day they’d stay in their room all day long ignoring us, I’m sure. I’d have that king bed with my husband alone, and no rocker in sight.
So for now I think I’ll smile at the clutter. I’ll linger in the rocker. I’ll enjoy every single moment as the fleeting gift it is. Some things are more important that a bedroom that looks like a catalog.
Lisa Naeger Shea says
A nice read as I sit in the car taking our oldest daughter back to college for her senior year. Next week we’ll take her sisters to their respective colleges, as sophomore and freshman. A blink ago I was you, Brie! Three little girls. Savor the moments. But know that every phase of parenting is exciting and brings unique joys.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you.