Sunday Confessionary

I know, its Monday. I am 24 hours late but I have decided to post a confession every Sunday.. lighten my load a little. I am sure my confessions are pretty lame in the scheme of things - a few white lies, perhaps a sin or two for good measure but mainly just stuff that is far better for the soul in black and white print than resting heavy on my chest...

This weeks confession is:

I still rock my 'nearly two year old baby' to sleep in my arms sometimes.

It was in fact during last nights little rocking session that I got the idea for this confessionary. I was thinking about how everyone in mothers group apparently had the 'perfect baby' for the first year. Until we got to know eachother and the truth came out! It wasnt until a sleep specialist visited us that she blew the lid on this little conspiracy and I finally understood the unspoken veil of slience that new mums often hide behind..Unfortunately this helps no one. A confession or two to eachother in those early days, would have done us frazzled mums a world of good.

Going back to last night... I felt ashamed that I was cradling my oversized, 14kg 'baby' in my arms - Aren't we past this? Then the panic set in as I started to think of my growing belly - "How can I cradle this toddler when I am 34 weeks pregnant.." and worse, when the new baby is actually here. The vision of me running frantically between two rooms of crying 'babies'... rationing each to a 30 second rock before racing to the other.

Oh the ridiculousness!

I know none of this will actually happen and if it does, well - we will get through it just like we have every other stage to date. In truth, I only rock Izzy to sleep every so often. I figure that I am in my 30's and I would love someone to scoop me up and rock me to sleep sometimes too. She won't be this little forever.