I Swore I Wouldn’t Treat My Youngest As A Baby Forever

As the oldest kid in my family, I’ve always held a bit of resentment towards people who permanently treat the youngest sibling in the family as the baby. You know, the ones who were coddled for the majority of their lives – forever seen as cute and without the same expectation and responsibility as their siblings. So when I became a mother I vowed to avoid this parenting trap. I promised to treat my youngest just as I had treated their siblings before them. Well, today my youngest is a 4 year old curly-haired, blonde ball of energy and (shocker!) I am doing everything I swore I wouldn’t do.

I am carrying her every time she asks to be carried, letting her sleep in my bed at night, and allowing her to drink out of a sippy cup. I laugh when she talks in a baby voice, rub her back until she falls asleep, and snuggle her like a newborn as we watch TV. I am actively treating her differently than I treated my others at her age. And even as I notice my hypocrisy, I am making little effort to change it. Because it isn’t actually about her sippy cup at all – it is allowing myself to keep one foot (or even one toe) in a world that I have lived in for so long and love so much.

With four kids, I have had someone in the baby and toddler phase for over ten years. I have spent countless hours snuggling, filling up tiny snack containers, cleaning up messes, and brushing teeth. For a decade I have been helping at least one person with simple tasks, sharing my lap, putting on shoes, and zipping up coats. And when you do something for that long, it becomes a part of your identity. And it has also been a stage of life that I have adored.

I love feeling wanted and needed in the way that my kids do when they are young. I love holding them and keeping them close, wiping their tears, and watching them fall asleep as I rub their backs. And of course, she has not outgrown all of these things at four years old – but my fear is that she is headed in that direction. And then what will I do? Who will I be?

So I am clinging to her, as my final baby, and dragging out some of her independence and maturity. Now I am not saying I am proud of it, as I am admittedly doing this more for me than for her, but here I am. And some of it is subconscious I think, as I am not actively having these deep thoughts in our little everyday moments. But when I sit down and reflect on our current family dynamic, it is clear what is going on.

So to all the parents before me whom I rolled my eyes at as they carried around their way-too-big-to-be-carried youngest kid, I’m sorry I judged you. I’m sorry I assumed you were just too lazy to move that last kid along the track of responsibility. I now understand that you were working through a big transition of your own, and that lingering sippy cup was likely your security blanket through a really big life change. And as long as we all make it out alive and happy, maybe babying that last kid isn’t the worst thing. I guess I will find out.

Samm is an ex-lawyer and mom of four who swears a lot. Find her on Instagram @sammbdavidson.