Sleeping Arrangements
We (finally) moved Elliott into his own room the other night. I ruined two pairs of pants painting his nursery and I made my father-in-law put together our crib which didn't come with directions, so it's about time we finally used the room for something other than a diaper receptacle. I have wanted to move Elliott into his nursery and out of our bedroom for about two months now. Shelbi has not. Her first reason for wanting to keep him in the bassinet next to our bed was entirely practical and understandable. When he wakes up it is much easier for her to simply roll over, lift him up and pacify him. Now when he needs to feed it becomes more of a process. Of course, for me, the routine is pretty much the same.
1. Inform Shelbi that the baby is crying.
2. Half-heartedly ask if she needs anything and wait for the "Yeah, grow a pair of functional breasts" response that I probably deserve.
3. Pray that the dog doesn't think that it's morning and beg to be let out.
4. Turn onto my stomach after Shelbi kicks me for snoring once she's done.
Shelbi's other reason for delaying the big move made slightly less sense. It has been well-documented that we are both paranoid parents. A week ago I took Elliott into the doctor for a stuffy nose and cough. The doctor examined him for 10 seconds as Elliott cooed and giggled on the table and then basically said "This is an extremely healthy baby but thanks for the co-pay." Anyway, Shelbi felt that with Elliott an additional 15 feet and one hallway away from us, it upped his chances for being kidnapped or doing something terrible to himself by 5000%.
Currently Elliott is in a large crib that has padding on all four sides. The only thing that could make him safer is if he was wearing a baby straight jacket. His previous bedding arrangements? For a short period of time he slept in bed with us... and the dog... it was quite the menagerie. That era ended when one of us (we won't say who) woke up with his or her arm squarely draped over Elliott's body. Next came the bassinet which was terrific until I pointed out the other day that he is now physically longer than his bed's dimensions and, with a particularly strong kick, could probably punch a hole through the bassinet. And as for the kidnapping... we'll just chock that paranoia up to Dateline NBC.
But tonight we put Elliott down in his crib and went into our family room to watch a movie and, maybe for the first time, it felt like the way I had always pictured what having a baby and a family would be like when I was growing up. Shelbi and I have often asked each other over the past six months "Does he seem like ours yet?" And the answer has always been no. We have both felt, especially early on, like we were just babysitting, getting a practice round in and, at some point, Elliott's real parents would pick him up, thank us and perhaps give us a report card in return with plusses and minuses.
+: Keeping him alive
- : Punching him in the eye while tightening his car seat.
That has changed now. Elliott has his own room. We have our own room. And the dog? Well, every room is pretty much still his.
This photo is not doctored or staged at all. Shelbi
snapped it a couple of weeks ago while getting ready
for work.
Let's play the find-it game with that picture. Shall we?
*Find the half-empty bottle of gatorade...
*Find the roll of toilet paper...
Nevermind, this is too depressing...
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That picture does give a good sense of what Matt would look like with a handlebar mustache.
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Who knows why the sun shines on empty?
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When they open the Egypt? I want to rest on the sea
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Who knows when America's presidential election?
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Can not wake up until noon. Why?
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I, too, is sometimes see, but somehow had not attached any importance to this.
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