My baby doesn't like to snuggle. She doesn't like being held, really. Very independent. Just plop her on the floor with lots and lots of toys within reach and she's happy for a good hour. Everyone says I'm lucky. I think it sucks.
While pregnant, I had fluffy, pink dreams of wasting rainy day afternoons curled up on the couch with my beautiful baby. We would wrap ourselves in a yummy blanket and I would read to her from Shel Silverstein's collection of odd poetry.
Well, it looks like I will have to drug her to get that fantasy. I've tried, but do you know how hard it is to snuggle with a little person arching her back and screaming like a banshee? It's a little difficult. And, since my emotions are starting their rollercoaster of fun, I'm trying hard and waxing nostalgic for a baby I never had.
Then, yesterday it happened. My friend, her 2-year-old niece, my banshee, and I were at the local Starbucks drinking lattes (the adults, not the children. Come on I'm not a monster), when suddenly, she lay her head on my shoulder and hung on to my shirt with her tiny hands. I cried. Yes, tears actually came to my eyes at such a wonderful moment. She then promptly fell asleep. Ah, I thought to myself, so when she's tired, she will cuddle. I filed this away in the part of my brain that doesn't forget things (this is in a far, dark, dreary corner).
So, lesson of the day is: skip a babies nap and they will comply with your cuddle demands.