From the’ sleep-all-night-like-an-angel’ newborns to the’ scream-bloody-murder-til-mommy-comes’ babies, we all know that children are wired very differently. Still, it can be hard to not internalize their behavior as a failing in our parenting–especially whenever you “blessed” with three of the latter type.
In the words of Jordan Harrell, “THREE hard children? That seems illogical. Surely, the common denominator is their flipping ill-equipped mother.” She WAS the problem.
At least, that was her judgment, until she recalled a poignant experience her young mom once had in faith that wholly transformed her perspective. The mommy blogger took to Facebook with a viral post that’s now promoting mamas of those chronic criers in the most beautiful route 😛 TAGEND
“I went 0 for 3 on easy babies.
There was a lot of colic and crying and ear infections and food allergies and little-to-no sleep.
My tubings are tied, just in case you’re pondering how much I loved it.
During those years of long nighttimes( and long days ), there was LOTS of crying. There were a few nights I wasn’t sure I could take it anymore. I wanted it to stop and told the baby just as much. They never listened.
So the hollering would go from a solo to a duet, me and the newborn swaying in dramatic harmony, alternating heaves as we pondered who would be able to reign it in first.
A lot of those nighttimes, I felt like such a failing. THREE hard newborns? That seems illogical. Surely, the common denominator is their flipping ill-equipped mother. That would construct more sense.
But during those instants of questioning my mommy-fitness, I would think back to a narrative my mommy had told me.
She was a young mommy with her first child, my brother, who was, you guessed it, HARD. He was colicky and clingy. He merely craved my momma and never slept.
One Sunday morning at faith, child Justin started crying mid-service. My mom rapidly built the long walking to the back of the church to soothe him down in the nursery.
Sitting next to her in the other rocking chair was another mama, a newborn laying against her chest about the same age as Justin. He sat nuzzled peacefully against her , not a peep out of him, even as Justin screamed at the top of his lungs.
“What’s your secret? How is he so easygoing? ” my mother half-joked, half pleaded.
“Well, he’s actually not mine. I’m his promote mommy, and it’s not so much that he’s easygoing. He simply spent the first few months of his life weeping non-stop with no response. Nobody ever came. The screaming didn’t work for him. So he stopped. And now, he never cries.
Your son’s exclaiming is a good thing. It intends he trusts you, trusts that you’ll come.”
So on those real bad nights, when I was so sure this was my fault, I would replay that conversation in my head.
His crying is a good thing.
He’s crying because he knows I’ll answer.
So to the mamas of hard newborns, be thankful for the crying. Go scoop them up and hold them close.
They’re not exclaiming because you’re a bad mom.
They’re exclaiming because you’re such a good one.”