Wishing Away The Newborn Days | The Essential One
I wish I could put him down for a few minutes.
I wish he could be on solids.
I wish he’d crawl.
I wish he’d walk.
I wish he’d talk.
I wish I’d stopped with the wishing and started living in the moment with my newborn.
Those are days I’ll never regain, and it’s a regret I’ll probably have forever. My son isn’t a toddler, he is not a child yet, he is a baby, and I am now making the most of this stage with him. This week, he’s spent his days in vests and sleepsuits, not restricted in the dungarees and shirts I normally succumb too in the Next racks. I’ll be the first to admit to dressing my baby older than he is, but should I be? I will dress him however I see fit, but there comes a time when I can’t help question if I’m forcing him to grow up too quickly. This query isn’t stemming from the shirts, or the jeans, or the baby converse: the grown up clothes are simply another means to highlight the fact that we’re forcing our children to grow up too quickly. It’s stemming from wishing away our days, from technology, from the differences in my childhood to the one I’m giving my own baby. Children these days seem to both act and look older than their years, so is it wrong of me to want to keep my baby young for just that little bit longer? Spending a week in our jammies isn’t going to allow me to do that, but it did allow me to live in the moment just that little bit more: I was excited over the raspberries, over the first disgusting nappy after solids, and although markedly less excited, I appreciated the 4am cuddles that little bit more, living by the notion that they will not be here for ever.
A pack of vests and a few days in sleepsuits will never change how I've handled the last few months. I'll forever kick myself for not living in the moment that little bit more in the first few months, but that pack of vests was enough to give me the kick up the arse needed to appreciate these little moments. There was no magical revelation, I simply realized that sometime when I've been moaning about his inability to sleep, he's grown up more than I've even noticed. This week, in the depths of the four month sleep regression, I can count the hours of sleep I've had on two hands. I'm drained, both physically and mentally, and yet, I've spent my days playing, giggling, laughing with my happy little four month old, and not once have I found myself wishing for the next stage. Sometimes all it takes is going back to basics for a little while to understand what is really important in life, and at the moment, that's not crawling, or walking, or talking - it's blowing raspberries and making screwed up faces at Butternut Squash. I refuse to wish away any more of our days.
All of the vests in these pictures can be found here. They were sent to us via The Essential One and I'll have a full review of them up next week, although as you can probably guess by the fact that we used them for a weeks straight, they are possibly the best quality basics we've found yet.