It Takes The Village People

We had the pleasure of having Amy’s mother, Brenda stay and help us out for a full 10 days after Baxter’s birth. She only planned to come for a few days (bless her heart, she didn’t want to be intrusive), but I threatened to tether her to the banister if she planned to leave early. It’s great having a grandma to help out, offer sage advice, expect the unexpected and allow some brief periods of respite and reflection. Brief.
We’ve been overwhelmed by the generosity of our friends and family. It’s been a veritable deluge of onesies, battery-operated chairs, teething giraffes, funny hats, diaper layer cakes, cards, cash and well wishes. We’re not sure what we’d do without the anecdotes and advice. We’re not the types to ‘go it alone’, nor are we the types to research topics ad nauseum (my siblings got that DNA). But that doesn’t stop me from making quasi-medical pediatric observations I personally consider as truths until such time that I am told differently.

For example, Baxter can get quite fussy at certain times of the day. No matter the time or place however, if strapped into his Baby Bjorn (pre-owned), Baxter will quickly lose consciousness. This is shocking as, until now, I’ve never noticed how terrible my gait is: uneven, clunky and of course, very fast. His head is thrown to-and-fro, yet he remains as limp as a blacked-out rodeo cowboy. ‘Doctor Bond’ believes this is because he slept in-vitro while Amy was out and about, rockin’ and rollin’. It’s his comfort zone. He’ll love my mother’s driving when we visit this summer.

So this post is dedicated to all our friends and family, a wonderful melody of disparate folks that orbit our little Baxter and happily pick up pieces or explain where they go (after we wipe the puke off them).