Even with the swaddle, she was fussy the last couple of nights. It could be the tail end of the shots. It could just be that she's a 9-week-old baby. Either way, fuss.
Last night, Rhona went out. So dad was left with the two girls. I fed her the bottle, I walked her, and then we had tummy time. Groaning and grunting, she moved along a little mat, pulling herself. Yes folks, we had locomotion. Which is a milestone for dad, but not what this post is about.
As stated, she woke up a few times last night. The last one being at 5:00AM. Mom, who has been doing an awesome job by the way, was trying to calm her. She had just fed a little, and we were looking for calm baby. The binky wasn't cutting it. That's when I pulled her to my chest and began to shake her just a little bit. I was like the little vibrator on her bassinette. Anyway, I guess the shaking worked because she settled right in. Her head was basically in my pit, which if I may be so bold, isn't a bushel of flowers on the best of days.
But then I was thinking: for millions of years dads have probably pulled their daughters in close, either for comfort or protection. All I did this morning was what billions of dads have done throughout history – offering my daughter a place to snuggle. And to be honest, I would have stayed there all morning if I were independently wealthy because it was amazing. Her little breathing, her warmth, her contentment. Awesome. Anyone here with kids have that moment in their heads that they want to remember? Because ladies and gentelmen, that's what I had this morning.
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