Friday, February 17, 2012
Garret is absolutely enthralled with Eleanor. He can be found gazing at her, quietly asking me, "Isn't she amazing?" and generally I agree. Except days like today where he had to come home early because I was threatening to sell her to the circus/drop her off at a hospital/just leave. She's growing and teething and was screaming with absolutely nothing being an acceptable option to console her, not even my breast (which as a general rule is the best baby shutter-upper I know). Today I thought, she's a terror. A 2 month old, holy cow terror.
Only she isn't. I caught her on video laughing and smiling. And turns out that me singing songs like "You Are My Sunshine" was what she wanted to be consoled with. We have a bond that startles me at times when as much as she loves her doting daddy, nothing but her mama will do. When all she wants is me to hold her the different way I hold her and me to sing made up songs as I spin her about. I am apparently the funniest person on earth and blowing a raspberry on her tummy can make her squeal, her father's eyes she inherited twinkling up at me.
So we're lying in bed, she finally napping a bit, and she's slumped against him. Since she's usually my little Velcro, I love when she will sleep on him. And she's slumped down, and she's beautiful, and he gets out his iPhone asking me to take pics. For reals. Because he's that daddy, the one posting a gazillion photos on facebook. We post a ton for family to see, but I'm pretty sure he just posts them because he's the proudest man. And I kind of love him more for it.