When LB was three weeks old, I decided she would be a “go baby.” I’m not one to be happy at home for very long and the thought of staying in the house with this new person who cried and pooped and ate all the time made me roll my eyes constantly and weep in to piles of tissue. I needed out and she was going to go with me.
I started walking with her every day in the Bjorn. I was determined she’d figure out this whole “day time is for wakey and night time is for sleepy” thing. Also, I needed to walk off the sixty pounds I gained during pregnancy and figured hauling her around was a sure way to do it.
We visited the Jelly Bellies, we went to the park, we went to playgroup. We never stayed home for an entire day without going somewhere, even if it was just a ride to Starbucks so she could flirt with the Baristas. I prided myself on this child that could go most places, enjoyed being out and craved people as much as I did. I thought it was fantastic.