Let It Be

I'm done with all of it.

The over-analyzing, the worry, the second-guessing, the consulting of experts. Yesterday I got a call back from Dr. Colgrove, the developmental pediatrician recommended to us by Sadie's regular pediatrician. He was really super-nice and willing to listen, and as I tried to explain the problems we've had with Sadie in the past, it sounded ridiculous to my own ears.

I mean, really: "My baby cries when she's with strangers. She's often fussy when expected to do things she doesn't want to do. She's clingy and doesn't want to be with anyone other than me."

"How old is she?" asked Dr. Colgrove, sympathetically.

"Well...she just turned one."

"Oh, she's just a little thing!" he exclaimed, and I felt even sillier. THIS IS HOW ONE YEAR OLDS ARE. WHAT DID WE EXPECT?

Dr. Colgrove explained that he doesn't work with kids under three, and he gave me the name of a child psychologist whose office is close by. He said it would probably be useful to take her there -- not for her, but for me, so I can learn how to introduce her to unfamiliar situations in a way that will be more comforting and less scary to her, which will make day care -- and eventually, preschool -- a less stressful experience. And I listened and took down the number and thanked him, but after I hung up, none of it seemed very necessary and important and more than anything I just kept thinking over and over, "Enough already."

She's a good baby. She's content 90% of the time. When she isn't content, it's typically because she's tired or hungry or has recently bumped her head -- or because she's at the office of that mean lady who has a bunch of cool toys but has the maddening tendency to always set them just out of reach. So she hates day care. What's wrong with that? The routine we've settled into now, with the nanny coming every morning and playdates in the afternoon, isn't an ideal one, but it's working.

It feels nice to let it go.