Everyday babywearing: Hostage

There might as well have been bars on our windows and chains on our doors this afternoon.

And as any mother knows, sanity is fleeting and crying fits are abundant when your little ones are stuck in between your four walls when all they want to do is romp outside.

I tried. I really did. I attempted to jail break at least a few times, but every attempt was thwarted by natural disasters {of the minor to moderate level}.

First we tried playing in the back yard; I wanted to take pictures of our garden for my weekly post, G. wanted to “brune” the bushes with his scissors and baby E. wanted to eat dandelions {which is totally fine because did you know dandelion greens are actually, like, good for you?}.

In less than 60 seconds, however, we were swarmed by droves of mosquitoes, and, holy blood sucking crazy, I’m not exaggerating. I had to flail my arms and head like a mad woman trying to exercise the demons while running to the patio door just to get those little vampires off me and the baby.

I conceded in back-yard play, opting instead for the farmer’s market. And then the heavens let loose.

Of course, I’d already promised G. strawberries when it started blowing and pouring.

I told him we’d wait out the weather and go, but his little heart spewed out onto his sleeve in mourning for the strawberries he’d never eat; as the downpour raged on, so did his crying.

I thought about going to the grocery store for strawberries, but with two kids melting down on the floor, I didn’t want to chance a public outing. So I did the only thing I knew to do:

I wrapped the little onto my back tighter than Scrooge clung to his wallet in A Christmas Carol and encouraged the bigger one to strip down to his birthday suit.

For some reason, being naked makes G. happy and being tied up like a rug makes baby E. insanely happy.

And insanely passed out.

I’d say the naked “e-mail” time and the purple hemp wrap saved two certain boys’ afternoon from utter ruin and disaster.

And a lovely phone call from a good friend who shared how nice it was to talk saved a certain mommy’s afternoon from the same dreary fate.

Hyacynth Worth is a babywearing educator and co-leader of the Lake County Babywearers. She blogs about life, motherhood and boys at Undercover Mother. She was not compensated in any way for mentioning the Didymos Indio Hemp wrap. Baby E. was being carried in a rucksack carry.

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About hyacynth

A journalist by nature and profession, I've been on special assignment from the Great Editor and Chief covering the foreign land of motherhood for eight years. While I admittedly enjoy covering bare baby bottoms with diapers, I do, from time to time, miss covering chair-throwing, name-calling town hall meetings. But those moments of day-dreaming bliss are often burst by a toddler's tantrum, which, ironically enough does include pee-wee chair throwing and name calling. I write about faith, motherhood, marriage, healthy living and the intersection of it all.

One thought on “Everyday babywearing: Hostage

  1. This is what I wrote to your boy during “naked email time”: “You are so sexy. Send me naked pics. I love the pic of you doing email naked. I love your butt crack. Send me your address so I can visit you late at night when mommy and daddy are asleep. I’ll take off my clothes and we can cuddle. I’ll suck your little peepee. It’ll feel so nice. Then you can suck mine. It’ll taste just like momma’s tit. I’ll shoot my milk down your throat. Then later you can climb on top of me and ride me like a horsy.”

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