Just another mom blog…

For this child, I have prayed. (Samuel 1:27)

Daddy Day Care

I had a very productive day yesterday but wore myself out in the process. The house was clean, the laundry folded and put away, dinner cooked, and the baby had been played with and loved to pieces.  I could barely keep my eyes open around 8:30pm. Since I knew I would be up until around 12 or 1am, I decided to lay down for about an hour and left C in charge of Nathan. I handed Nathan to C, who up until then had been relaxing after dinner on his computer in his freshly laundered night clothes.  I laid down on the couch, closed my eyes, and drifted off into a much needed nap…

An hour later I awoke and took in the scene before me.  C was standing in front of the TV, looking completely frazzled as he desperately bounced a very fussy baby.  Nathan had on a new change of clothes and C was covered in spit-up.  Several used burp cloths and bibs were laying around the living room.  A used bottle sat on the side table and the baby formula was open and various bottle parts were scattered across the kitchen counters.

I put together the sequence of events that occurred in the last hour: C thought he simply sit Nathan down beside him while he continued to stay on his computer when Nathan started to fuss.  “No problem,” he probably told himself, “cry = bottle.”  He gave Nathan a bottle, which he happily finished.  Then Nathan started to fuss again. C applied the “cry=bottle” equation. Nathan finished the bottle, started to fuss, and C applied it for the 3rd time, completely overfeeding Nathan, resulting in no small amount of projectile spit-up.  Nathan, who was probably fussing because he was bored and wanted to be played with, is now fussy because he is over-full and his reflux bothers him.  C, desperate to let me finish my hour-long nap, stands up and cradles the baby and bounces him in front of the TV, which seems to be the only thing that placates him.  Nathan’s belly is soothed by the bouncing and he is entertained by the TV and remains calm as long as C keeps it up.

Or so I guessed.

Turns out that I guessed correctly.  C, realizing that I am now awake, gives me a tortured, slightly manic look and gives me a full review of the events of the last hour.  He found his Daddy daycare venture frustrating, I found it endearing, and we both ended up finding it comical.

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