To Dream, Perchance To Sleep…

(post #4 of 32)

Again, my apologies to the Bard for the title of this post.

P.Pie & I try and share parenting duties as much as possible, whenever possible. Of course, it would be easiest to just divide tasks along the perforated lines; that is, the things we do best.

But no one learns from doing the things they do best.

***

When The Squeaker first started on solids, P.Pie excelled at feeding her. Probably has something to do with the whole breastfeeding thing. She’d put the spoon in front of Squeak and Squeak would practically take the spoon from her and feed herself.

But when dad has the spoon? Squeak wasn’t having any of it.

It took a while, and P.Pie is still better at feeding her than me, but now I’m a fair feeder. All because P.Pie wouldn’t let me I wouldn’t quit trying.

The thing I do best is put The Squeaker to sleep. When it comes to getting the sleepfighter to go down, I am a rock star.

I have bragged may have mentioned my skills at getting The Squeaker to sleep as an infant. This is a skill that has carried over into her, errr… 7 month-edness (not an infant and not yet a toddler).

P.Pie asked if I could bathe Squeak tonight (bathing is a skill that we both score high on). So I agreed and in return, P.Pie would put her to sleep.

P.Pie sort of cheats when it comes to getting The Squeaker to sleep; she relies on the boob. A hit from the knockout juice and down Squeak goes.

But tonight Squeak wasn’t on the juice, she wouldn’t have any; a combination of the sleepfighter in her and a tooth working its way to the surface. So the P.Pie called in the pinch hitter to bat clean up.

Now, I could have played the “How-are-you-ever-going-to-learn” card, but there’s something special about putting a child – you’re child – to sleep.

Daddy swung for the fences and knocked one out of the park.

A sobbing Squeaker plopped her head on my shoulder and fell directly asleep.

I love the having a skill…