Friday, June 7, 2013

Breaking Free




When I was a child I would challenge my siblings to tie me up, after which I would try to escape. I enjoyed the challenge, a physical brain-teaser of sorts that gave me much satisfaction when conquered. It would appear that my daughter has the same propensity for a challenge. Different types of swaddles, different sizes—she slithers out of every one. She may not have the strength to break through the Velcro, but she wriggles until her hands and arms are free and near her face—where she has always liked them best.

She has always liked to have her freedom to move, getting frustrated when she is restricted. While many babies like to cuddle close, she likes to face outward. While some newborns love to be rocked, she quickly tires of sitting in one location. She rolled over at five weeks, a feat that left me a bit concerned—after all, an immobile baby is easier to keep track of. And after three months my mom has commented on several occasions how much she reminds her of me—a child (and adult) that has rarely been content to sit, and really prefers to move.

Part of me looks forward to her gaining mobility, as much as it will turn my world upside down. I wonder if she will get less frustrated when she is not so restricted. Regardless of my theories, she’ll grow and mature and move sooner or later. She’ll outgrow her swaddle and then her crib and slowly but surely develop her independence.

Yet, as she grows, I gain a little more independence as well, leaving her for an hour or two with Curtis or one of my sisters so I can go out for a run, a bike ride, or anywhere by myself. Perhaps my desire to break free is one I haven’t out-grown. While I love my baby dearly, and wish at times she were more content to just cuddle close, I am glad she likes to get out and about—because at the end of the day, I do too.

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