Normally I would consider myself a "my way or the highway" kind of a parent. I'm not saying that it's the best way or the worst way, but it's just been my kind of way. And for some reason lately I have noticed myself starting to feel a little sorry for my boy who is going to have his world rocked in just a few short weeks! I wonder how my parenting style will change.
As we were getting Camden ready for bed tonight he was reaching for his crib. I tried not to get teary eyed when I told him he wouldn't be sleeping there, but instead in his "big boy bed". I seriously begged Dan to just let him sleep in the dang crib. Dan told me no and he would hold the door again because it needed to be done. Nights used to be such a joy for all of us, Camden loved them and so did we. He would cuddle right up as soon as we laid him down and snooze the night away.
So as I sit here with tears rolling down my face being the drama queen I'm known to be. I ask myself, why does he have to grow up so fast? Why can't the poor kid just sleep where he wants to sleep? Why can't the baby sleep in my room? I need to be fine just ignoring his every squeak; afterall, it's me or Camden that will need to do the ignoring(man I'm selfish). Why can't he have treats for breakfast? I eat my rootbeer floats in the morning when I want them. Am I too hard on him about things that don't matter THAT much?
PS. It has only been 12 minutes and Camden has stopped crying and is out cold in his bed of all places, but I will continue on with my pity party.
I'm pretty sure the exhaustion of being 8 months pregnant and the hormonal surge that comes with it is just catching up to me, but it's hitting me hard. I can't wait for what those joyous postpartum "surges" will bring if I'm already a mess. Oh the things we do!