I thought I had Eli pretty figured out. He was a classic fussy baby. Some babies are calm and do adorable things like shove their feet in their mouths. Others, like my son, prefer to choke and cry.
I still love him more than life itself. In fact, I think the fussiness is pretty hilarious. I kind of admired his unabashed rage. I liked to imagine I was living with a mini Incredible Hulk. Complete with the purple pants.
To top it off, I was planning on using his fussiness as ammunition later in life. When he’s graduating from Harvard I’d say, “Yeah, but you were a fussy baby.” When he gets married, I’d say, “Careful with this one. He was a fussy baby.”
Well, so what does he pull last night? The opposite of fussy. He slept record breaking 4 hour shifts without so much as a peep. And the reports from the home today are that he hasn’t so much as frowned. Diana is dancing around like someone who one the lottery.
I can’t figure him out. He must be messing with us on purpose. If he is messing with us on purpose, he’s the cleverest baby ever.
p.s. I do realize by talking about his non-fussiness, he’s going to be a nightmare tonight. Hulk Smash!
No comments:
Post a Comment