Lying sprawled on our king-sized bed, my 2.5-year-old is once again whining, and the only remedy is breastfeeding. If I don’t comply, he might erupt into a full-blown scream, waking his older brothers, ages 4 and 6, who are crammed into a sidecar bed. They cling to my husband like barnacles. Sometimes each boy demands to sleep on a stretched-out arm, forcing him to navigate a night of awkward positions. Other times, my toddler won’t stop nursing, leading to a chaotic scene where I can’t decide whether I prefer this twilight state of half-sleep or if I just wish he would wake up already.
Had we placed them in cribs as babies, I doubt we would face these nightly battles. Bedtime at 8 p.m. would result in peaceful nights, and we would enjoy our own space. This ideal scenario sounds heavenly, and while we stand by our decision to co-sleep, I sometimes find myself wishing for a different path.
I have my share of parenting choices I second-guess. For instance, extended breastfeeding has become quite the conundrum. My 4-year-old insists he’s not weaned, and when he gets upset, he launches himself at me, demanding “Mama milk!” When I say no, the wailing amplifies. My 2.5-year-old follows suit, asking for milk, and when I decline, a toddler tantrum ensues. This morning, he screamed for thirty minutes because I wouldn’t nurse him. I nearly caved but realized that if I did, I’d be faced with this dilemma every time. So there I was, holding a sobbing toddler covered in snot while my oldest tried to focus on his reading.
If I had weaned them around 18 months, none of this chaos would be happening. They would be so far removed from nursing that requests for milk wouldn’t even cross their minds. While I cherish nursing as a soothing tool for injuries and tantrums, it can be a real hassle. I don’t even wear nursing clothes anymore, so I find myself flashing the public whenever I breastfeed.
Another decision I sometimes regret is my stance against using strollers. My babies were snugly wrapped in cloth, either on my back or cuddled in front. I had a collection of wraps for them to choose from and even taught babywearing. However, once they grew too big for wrapping, they refused to ride in the cart. At just 2 years old, they insisted on walking in Target, feeling too cool to be carried. If I had used strollers more, they would have been accustomed to riding in one, allowing for a more relaxed shopping experience. I adore wrapping them when they permit, but it would be nice to have them ride in a cart occasionally.
Then there’s the journey of homeschooling. Some days, we breeze through reading, math, and science with joy. Other mornings devolve into tantrums when my oldest struggles with certain words, and chaos erupts as the preschooler and toddler go from molding playdough to mashing it into the carpet. Meanwhile, the baby screams in my lap, and my oldest is on the verge of a meltdown, trying to control the chaos around him. On particularly challenging days, I find myself fantasizing about enrolling them all in school. Sure, I’d face car lines, but I’d finally have a few hours of uninterrupted time to clean, write, or even treat myself to some self-care. I know this fantasy is unrealistic, but some days, I crave that dream.
And here’s a confession: occasionally, I wish we spanked our kids. We chose not to, believing that violence teaches nothing. We understand the studies that suggest it does more harm than good. Instead, we focus on consequences and understanding behavior. But when one of them leaps off the kitchen table onto plastic bins, I can’t help but fantasize about a swift smack, if only for the sake of their safety. While I know that spanking wouldn’t solve tantrums, I admit that it could be quite satisfying in that moment of frustration.
We all have parenting regrets—perhaps not regrets, but unfulfilled dreams. The grass always seems greener on the other side. We make the best decisions for our children based on our understanding of what comforts and teaches them. Yet sometimes, we wish for a different reality, and that’s perfectly okay.
For further insights on parenting, feel free to check out this blog post on intracervical insemination. And if you’re interested in at-home insemination, Make A Mom is a great resource for syringe kits. To learn more about the topic at large, Wikipedia’s page on artificial insemination provides excellent information.
In summary, parenting is a journey filled with ups and downs, and while we may reflect on our choices, it’s crucial to remember that we all strive to do what’s best for our children.
Leave a Reply