Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a baby. I wasn’t born an adult, if that’s what you’re wondering. But my memory of my own babyhood is a little fuzzy on a good day. I’d imagine they’d have to get used to the sound of fireworks going off in their tiny noggins every time they learn something new. The ceiling fan alone held John’s attention for days. And usually it wasn’t even moving.
All in all, eating, pooping, sleeping and accidentally hitting toys with his flailing arms seem to keep him quite occupied. Except when he’s crying. He’s a good baby most of the time, I swear. He usually limits crying to when he’s hungry, uncomfortable or gassy. And isn’t that true for any of us? However, there are times when he starts crying from hiccups or gas, and by the time the problem’s solved, he’s been crying long enough that he’s forgotten what the stink was about. I suppose he may be thinking he’ll remember again if he cries long enough. Or maybe he is just bored and doesn’t know what else to do.
I have a new appreciation for my mother as I realize all the sleepwalking I do trying to get him in a drowsy enough state to tuck into bed. And we all know babies aren’t happy unless you are exerting the most possible energy trying to calm them. I mean really, how can it be relaxing to be in a tight wad, slung over a shoulder, bouncing up and down violently, or being swung through the air at the speed of sound? Babies don’t give out E’s for effort; you know your attempts succeeded when you can hear yourself think again.
Around our house, we have some tried and true methods of solving baby problems. They work 60% of the time, every time. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) Some of these ideas came from a book that could’ve offered it’s suggestions in a brochure instead of a 250-page volume. But maybe I’m just lazy. Anyway, this particular piece of literature recommends Five S’s for calming baby. Swaddling, swinging, and I can’t remember the other three. As you can see, it left quite an impression. In my defense, those first two S’s usually do the trick. Swaddling is easy; it’s the swinging that leaves me catching my breath. (I wonder if I can count that for my physical activity in my workout program. Hmmm…)
This is us, a typical pre-day or pre-bed routine: baby burrito snugly wrapped so only his head shows from his cloth tortilla. Legs on my chest, head on my knees, bink properly inserted. Aaahhh. Peace.