Father's Day Photo Preview

I know my husband doesn't read my blog unless I tell him to, so I can be all sneaky here and share the Father's Day photos we took at Frame Park today.  Everything aligned quite nicely for us to sneak out for photos:  the weather was perfect, Dan was busy with his work, and Jack was in a great mood.  In fact, Jack was all smiles, all day.  Until the camera came out.  Then I couldn't get him to smile if I paid him.  So we have very serious Father's Day photos.

Jack can't sit unsupported for very long yet, so we did have a few oopsies.  I thought they were funny.  Jack wasn't as amused as I was. He'll learn.  I wasn't laughing at him, exactly.  Okay, I was.



We didn't get quite as many good photos as I had hoped.  Jack was particularly drooly today, so about a third of the photos feature a giant drip on his chin.  His good mood didn't last as long as I had hoped either.  But we did get enough photos to give Dan some very sweet pictures for his first Father's Day.  Happy Father's Day, babe.

I have witnessed a miracle

Jack settled himself into a sleep routine very early in his young life. It isn't a good routine, but it is almost always like clockwork. A typical night has been:
11:00 p.m. Jack falls asleep in my arms. I tuck him into his Snuggle Nest and I get some sleep too.
2:30 a.m. Jack wakes up, hungry and fussy. I feed him and he falls asleep in my arms again. Efforts to put him back into his Snuggle Nest are completely in vain, so I hold him and rock him.
3:30 a.m. Jack is sufficiently asleep for me to return him to his Snuggle Nest.
4:00 a.m. Jack is awake and realizes he's no longer being held. Fussing commences. I pick him up and hold him.
4:30 a.m. Jack is asleep again. Until I place him into the Snuggle Nest. Then he opens one accusing little eye and winds up for a big, big cry.
5:00 a.m. I make coffee and turn on the morning news. My night is over.

And then, a miracle happened. More specifically, the Miracle Blanket happened. I purchased our Miracle Blanket when Jack was about four weeks old, but I didn't really use it much. The various flaps confounded me, and the fact that it bore more than a passing resemblance to an actual straight jacket disturbed me. When I've swaddled him with it, Jack has busted out of the swaddle within a few hours and with little effort. (Don't worry, I'm getting used to being outsmarted by my baby. My ego can take it). This week I decided to renew my efforts with the Miracle Blanket, but this time I brought in my secret weapon: Daddy, the Master Swaddler.


I love my husband for countless reasons. When we first met, I loved his genuine love of life, his ability to make me laugh, and the fact that he's a total hottie helped too. When we purchased our home, I loved his Mister Fixit skills and the pride that he took in our home. Now that we have a son together, I have grown to love the paternal adoration he has for his boy, but on a more practical note, I really love his mad swaddling skills. My husband can swaddle the baby with the speed of a ninja, one handed, upside-down and underwater while reciting the alphabet in German. With the Miracle Blanket, he is a swaddling force like no other. So last night, Jack experienced the Miracle Blanket, Daddy style.

And this is what I experienced:

11:00 p.m. A swaddled Jack hits the hay. He's actually asleep before Daddy can tuck the last tail into the swaddle. Wow. I'm sold. I may get a solid four hours of sleep tonight.
2:30 a.m. I wake up, apparently out of habit and Jack hasn't stirred. I make sure Jack is breathing, and he is. I tickle his nose until he reacts. He scrunches his nose and falls back to sleep. And so do I.
3:30 a.m. Awake again, I peer over the side of the Pack and Play. Eyes are closed, still breathing. I go back to sleep.
4:30 a.m. I wake up again. Okay, surely Jack is awake by now? Maybe he's playing quietly. Maybe I was so tired that I slept through his cries! No, he's still sleeping. This is...weird. Something must be wrong. I feel his forehead and he feels fine. Huh.
5:30 a.m. I wake up with a strong desire for a cup of coffee. Jack is still asleep. I'm not sure what to do with myself now, so I stare at the ceiling for awhile listening to Jack breathing.
6:15 a.m. I can't stand it anymore. I wake Jack up. I unwrap the swaddle and change his diaper as he slowly wakes. My baby is well rested and content.

Thank you, Miracle Blanket. I'm so ridiculously well-rested today. Tonight, we'll be watching the Miracle Blanket turn water into wine. I'm convinced this thing can do anything.

My Son has Pink Things

My husband has made it clear that our son will grow up to be a manly man. He has visions of little Jack the lumberjack, chopping logs by age 3 and wearing Old Spice to Kindergarten. I'd never put my little man in a dress, but I also don't believe that baby boys need to wear blue every day until high school. A few little pink details have slipped in over the months.

Jack has a pink swing. I didn't realize the importance of a baby swing until Jack was four days old and I was exhausted from holding and rocking him around the clock. In my sleep-deprived stupor, I drove myself to Target to get him a swing. I knew that beggars couldn't be choosers, but sadly their selection left a lot to be desired, ranging from completely hideous to ridiculously pricey, except for one lovely little Boppy swing. It had all the features we wanted: variable swing speeds and music, and it was just the right size. And...it was pink. With pink plush animals hanging from it. And a beautiful band of pink across the top. While more rested minds may have done differently, Mommy was tired so Jack has a pink swing.

Jack has one pink diaper. We cloth diaper part time (he's in disposables for overnights and for travel) and I purchased most of his diapers in lots of 3 or more. One of those lots contained a mix of colors, including one lovely pink diaper. He wears the pink one occasionally, usually when my patience is wearing thin. "You want to cry, honey? Fine. Cry in a pink diaper." These things keep me sane.

Jack has a pink Boppy pillow. My frugality was flaring when this happened. I saw a Boppy pillow on sale for a great price. Sorry, baby. Mommy's a cheapskate.

If Daddy ever gets more than 4 hours of sleep in a night again, he may notice all of this pink that has slipped into his manly son's life. For now though, Jack and his precious pink things are safe.