Meet My New Daddy

 
So, for the last few days, I've noticed that when Max and I are standing at the back door (sorry, when I'm standing with Max at the back door), he's pretty calm. It doesn't seem to matter what time of day it is: we'd be back there, swaying away and Max, who had been crying in the living room suddenly grew quiet. Now, I was thinking that there was something about looking out the back door at the yard and the garage. At night, it was nice because you had your moonlight and streetlights and when it was snowing the other evening, it was just one of those sweet, quiet baby moments: snow falling, soft light, kid asleep in your arms.

Now, this morning, Katie's catching a bit of sleep; Max and I are at the back door, he's calm and in the quiet Saturday morning light, I hear a noise to my right: the fridge. "It can't be", I think. Oh, but it can.

I stick him in the car seat and walk back over to the back door, sway the car seat a bit and he calms right down. I set the car seat down, rock it a bit, and he's asleep. It takes a few tries: he prefers to rock for a while but, after about five minutes, he's out cold.

I skulk away, chastened. These last few days it wasn't the view or the warm arms of his father or my low and slow version of Elvis' "My Happiness" that was doing it, 'twas the fridge. I felt a little bummed until I realized that this was way cheaper than setting him on top of an empty, running dryer. Give it up for Max's new daddy: the fridge!