Not quite a hippy

I was walking with my husband, David, today. (The way I phrased that seems like I have more than one husband. I don't, trust me, one is quite enough.) And I asked him "do you think we're hippies?". "Why do you say that?" he wondered, and so I explained my thought process. We co-slept with our son. I breastfeed on demand, he sleeps on demand, we use cloth diapers and all natural toys. I wear him in a baby sling instead of using the stroller or another form of transportation. There were other things but I remember those big ones. "Don't think of it as being a hippie" David said "think of it as being loving". And I do, I do think of it as being loving and right and comfortable and so forth, but let's face it, we're a little granola around here and that's okay too!

I'm not sure I realized how much my parenting style would change when I actually had something to parent! I figured I had it figured out long before there were fingers and toes to count. We would be firm, but not strict. We would have rules and rules would be obeyed and that was that and thank you ma'am. Bottom line - there was a bottom line and the puck stops with Mom. Capital M. But then little Samuel arrived and I discovered that I was not capital M Mom. I was little m mama. I cried quite a bit those first few days, let me tell you. I wanted to breastfeed and when he cluster fed for 14 hours straight in the hospital and I begged the nurse for a bottle of formula to MAKE HIM BE QUIET so I could sleep, I was Mom, but then he slept beside me in the bed and I was mama. When we came home from the hospital and my breasts were bleeding and I had to give him a bottle of expressed milk I was Mom, but I couldn't do it, I couldn't be the one to hold that bottle and my mother had to feed him, and I was mama. And Mom eventually, slowly peeled away over the days and more and more I was mama.

Mostly these days I am mama. I've gotten better at fielding the questions we get, especially in a small town. Lots of people say "He's getting big for that wrap! He'll be in a stroller soon!" etc. I'm very good at smiling. With any luck he will always be in my arms, I want to say. I used to be so very, very careful of covering every possible inch of skin with a blanket when I fed him. Now my theory is, 'I have a blanket, I will drape it approximately where it needs to be, if he pulls it off or it slips or, heaven forbid you see a bit of something you shouldn't, please consider this my apology in advance and let's all be mature about it.' And if you come to my house all bets are off. I'll wear clothes, that's all the concession you get around here these days.

I don't really like the term Attachment Parenting, because I feel like it places restrictions on me. If one day he wants to be in a stroller, he can be, but AP likes you to hold your babies. It would also frown on me transitioning him into a crib, although Samuel certainly didn't have any problems sleeping with me, away from me, on me, on David, in broad daylight, with traffic, etc., etc. He's like his mother that way, sleep just appears. And we cloth diaper, but sometimes we don't, and that's okay too. We try, and the amount of time he spends in cloth now outweighs the time he spends in throw-away diapers so we're getting there. I think if I picked a term for what we are, we're Natural Parents. As Elizabeth Pantley said "it's only a problem if it's a problem for you." That's us. If Samuel is happy, then that's fine, we'll do that. If he nurses to sleep, that's fine and if he decides not to sleep, then that's fine too. We read his cues and offer him what he needs and if he doesn't want it, then we offer it again a few minutes later. And if he still doesn't want it, then that's fine. I know this doesn't work for everyone, and I'm surprised it works for us since we're both very Type A, schedule-driven people, but this little boy has a surprising way of forcing you to stop and listen to him.