Hubby and I just returned home from watching the new grandbaby while his mama returned to work. We thought it might help ease her back into the working world without having that whole hassle with the babysitter for her first few days.
I'll admit that I couldn't have done it alone. If hubby hadn't come along with me I'd have been a crying mess by the time Gavin's parents returned home in the evening. Back in the day, I used to be able to hold a crying baby in one hand, cook dinner with the other hand, and all while folding laundry with my feet. But it's been too many years since I've had a tiny one around and I was sorely out of practice. It turns out that our precious little Gavin is a fusser, just like his daddy was, and if he wasn't sleeping or eating, he was fussing (I chose that word in the event that his parents read this blog post and don't want to hear that Gavin is a screamer, again, just like his daddy.) We chose to deal with the fussing in the only way we knew how; we fed him. Constantly. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that his weight doubled in this past week, but not worrying about a schedule is one of the perks of being a grandparent I think, so if we got him all out of whack while we were there, it's only because we're old and we're used to peace and quiet.
We had one mission to accomplish while Gavin was in our care and that was to take him to meet his great grandmother (my mother.) So on Thursday we had our son install the bullet proof, straightjacket car seat in our car and headed north 75 miles to the nursing home where she resides. Armed with a diaper bag the size of a suitcase, we felt fully prepared for any possible baby emergency. Three outfits, a dozen diapers, 4 bottles, two pacifiers, a box of pacifiers wipes (did you even know that they make those?) diaper wipes, changing pad, blankets, a burp towel and the kitchen sink. I rode in the back seat with him in his rear-facing car seat and all was right with the world for that day.
American Flag Pie
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