Parenting an Infant Who Knows Exactly What She Wants—
Have you ever felt like your baby is trying to condition you?
Sounds ridiculous, I know. After all, every parent of an infant understands that in the early days, the baby is the one who sets the household schedule, and everything revolves around them at all times.
Still, there’s something else entirely about a baby who identifies a parent’s weaknesses, zeroes in on them, and decides to exploit them for her own enjoyment. It may seem charming at first, but seasoned parents know this can quickly turn into a reality that’s far from simple.
Sarah is exactly that kind of baby. Controlling, manipulative, shamelessly cunning—someone who knows how to play, without a trace of guilt, on the soft heart of her loving father, and who pushes the boundaries a little further every single day.
When I put Sarah to bed and then turn to my own affairs, it feels like she takes pure pleasure in summoning me over and over again: dropping her pacifier, making teasing little sounds in my direction—the trained monkey—and demanding that I come yet again to put the pacifier back in her mouth.
Every time I do, I’m almost certain I catch a mischievous, taunting smile spread across her round face. I know—it sounds adorable and sweet, like a game she’s inviting her father to play along with. But when she does it at night, when you’re already desperate for a bit of quiet, you realize this is a real test of character. Sometimes it feels like she’s actually waiting for the exact moment my head hits the pillow before calling me back.
Nighttime, Singing, and Standing Only
Speaking of nighttime—has it ever happened to you that a three-month-old baby wakes up at two in the morning and, without any formal invitation or prior warning, decides to break into song? Or something resembling it.
Maybe Sarah thinks nighttime is the perfect moment to rehearse for auditions for American Idol, or some similar reality show where babies get a stage to showcase their talents.
If that’s her intention—fine. But Sarah is clever enough to know that her loud “singing” could easily wake the rest of the household, who might enjoy the performance during the day but would strongly prefer silence at night. So why does she do it? Because she knows that her father, in order to avoid awkwardness with the rest of the family, will get out of bed and pick her up. Apparently, that’s the only way to stop her from demonstrating her skills as an aspiring vocalist.
Since it’s the middle of the night and you’re obviously not at your best, you’ll probably try to rock Sarah while sitting on the edge of the bed. A grave mistake.
Sarah, without a shred of infant mercy, immediately launches into full-volume screaming, far more piercing than her “singing.” This is her way of signaling that she is to be held only while standing, or else.
So, in order to protect the family’s sleep, you comply and begin pacing around the house in the middle of the night, while the boss herself waits patiently to see if you’ll crack and dare to sit down.
Food, Choirs, and Discipline
Another way Sarah challenges her aging father is through complete control over how she’s fed. From her exalted position in the household hierarchy, Sarah is no longer satisfied with sitting in a standard position and having the bottle nipple placed in her mouth. Absolutely not. She now demands a full entertainment program along with her meal.
Sound unbelievable? You’re welcome to attend the regular ritual the miniature boss has instituted in our home, where everyone present is required to sing together:
“If You’re Happy and You Know It, clap your hands…”
No singing—no food.
Once, it was enough for only the person feeding her to sing. Now she demands a full choir, and heaven help anyone who dares to sing off-key.
Speaking of food—just to further challenge us, every so often Sarah arbitrarily decides that her usual feeding spot has become boring and refuses to eat. Only after the choir is completely exhausted and we realize that the problem isn’t the entertainment do we attempt a change of location. Then, and only then, does Her Majesty express her satisfaction by finally eating.
With each passing day, Sarah fortifies her status as the supreme ruler of the household, especially since discovering she has a voice. At first, when she wanted attention or when something displeased her, she simply cried. Today, whenever she wants one of her subjects to rush to their queen on demand, she raises her voice in a way that leaves no room for refusal. After all, who would dare disobey the queen?
Why does she do this? Some people are simply born to rule. Sarah is one of them. Nietzsche divided humanity into masters and slaves; Sarah, now four months old, decided from day one which side she belongs to.
At first it was incredibly cute and sweet, and I accepted everything with love. Today it’s simply part of our family reality. I’ve learned to live with every demand and whim, no matter how absurd or petty it may be. And yes, I’d be lying if I said I no longer enjoy serving my little queen—perhaps now more than ever. With each passing day, my love for her grows stronger, along with my sense of responsibility.
I know there are those who would say I don’t set boundaries. That my total surrender to Sarah proves I’m weak-willed, and that my soft behavior is inviting an increasingly difficult life.
Tell me something I don’t know.
But as long as it doesn’t seem that bad to me, and Sarah is enjoying her elevated status, I’ll keep going along with my little boss, who shows me time and again—like an experienced marine biologist—showing me, as we say, exactly where the fish pees.
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Read Next
If you’d like to read more about Sara and our life together, here are two more posts you might enjoy:
Beyond the Blog
Alongside this blog, I also give talks about late fatherhood, surrogacy, and the emotional journey of becoming a parent later in life.
Sara and Me 