Flower Power

Last night, as I sat barefoot on the grass at the botanical gardens in a work dress listening to a sub par 60s cover band while my child gnawed on a giant pickle, I fancied myself a bit of a hippie nowadays. Little Bug and I are dining alfresco while enjoying outdoor concerts at least once, often twice a week. I've embraced the "dirt is our friend and not our enemy" to the extreme. I didn't even wash my hair yesterday (although that was not something I was happy about). *

And I am wearing my 37 lbs child...everywhere.

I never paid attention to baby wearing before becoming a mom. It's a great tool for attachment, so it became a priority for us, although when Little Bug got home, he spent more time working on tummy muscles than riding aboobah. We used our carrier for the occasional outing with great success, but it's only been in the last month that I have started LOVING wearing my child.

I wear him everywhere. Into the big box stores when I could be using a cart. Into the library. All around the botanical gardens. I love the intimate interaction and the comfort he seems to feel on my back. When he rests his tiny head on my back or lightly grasps my arms as he watches the world around him from the safety of my back, I just feel so happy...so connected to him.....so his mom.

I have noticed a marked increase in his affection toward me since I started wearing him more. He has often maintained distance with me, partly, I think, because I am the therapy slave driver and boundary enforcer and other people are in his life only to play with him. It's always stung to see me passed over for a different lap, a different side.

Last night, instead of sitting on the grass like he normally does, he crawled into my lap and ate his dinner from that perch. He even lounged back and laid his head on my reclined chest a number of times. He was so content to be with me.

When he was done I took him to the train garden, but all he really wanted was to be back aboobah. So he rejected the choo choos for me, snuggled into my back, and we walked for an hour exploring parts of the garden that are less accessible for little feet......all the while listening to hippie music wafting through the air.

*Reading this back, I probably have a pretty offensive stereotyping of hippies going on. Good thing they are all about love. No offense is meant to those who love the flower power. It's just not my thing.