Baby Tucker and the Fisher Price Whore

Tuck has received a ton of much appreciated gifts, including an awesome crib, a closet full of diapers (which will be used until we can afford the fancy cloth diapers that I truly covet), a ton of baby clothes, and a swing. I love each and everyone of the gifts and I’m very grateful. Except for the swing.

Don’t get me wrong it’s a nice swing. It’s brand spanking new fresh out the box. Tucker loves the swing. He loves it so much that sometimes it’s the only thing that can calm him down. I feed him. I rock him. I cradle him. I coo to him. I do everything I can get him to calm down. But no. He wants the swing.

I want to nap with my baby. He’s a month old now. For three weeks he was my snuggle buddy, I would rest him on the crook of my arm and we would catnap together. I love it.

But then the swing came. I made the mistake (if you would call it one) of letting him nap in it while I ran around doing chores. Honestly it was nice, he doesn’t like it when I lay him down in his bassinet. He fusses and won’t hang out or nap. Which is ok, I use it as a diaper changing station more than anything.

Maybe it’s because there’s nothing cool to look at in the bassinet. The mobile is crap and the music is really terrible. I’m sure by now he is as tired of popcorn ceilings as I am. But the swing has a cool mobile with bees and a neat little mirror so he can see himself. And I’m not even going to lie, the music is damn catchy. It’s a swank swing and my baby has good taste.

He won’t nap with me now. He squiggles and squirms, and is having none if the stationary dormancy that a nap with mommy entails. Once a day he has a fit, like major cry your head off super pissed for no reason fit. (Maybe it’s colic?) Again, I do everything I can to soothe him. Usually toward the end of the fit he will start to nod off, realize that he’s falling asleep in mom’s arms, and keep crying. Then I put him in the swing (because at this point my shirt is soaked from my boobs leaking because of the crying, he’s been crying for over an hour, and I’ve had to pee for a good while now.). He pipes down and goes straight to sleep.

Stupid Whore Swing turning my baby boy against me and my loving embrace.

But the truth is I need the swing. The swing let’s me do things I normally have to wait for Jessy to get off work to do. I can use the bathroom without him fussing because I put him in his bassinet. I can do the dishes that Jessy gripes are always dirty (Seriously babe? A little insensitive). I can, dare I say for fear of judgement, take a nap! I hate that I need it. I hate that I’m not Supermom- able to calm a crying infant. I hate that my baby doesn’t want my nap-time snuggles anymore. I just can’t compete with Fisher Price. So I guess thank you Jessy’s coworker who gave us the swing. Without it I wouldn’t be able to write this.

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