Monday, March 16th began as most mornings have of late. Cally woke us up with her usual little squawk and stir from the Moses basket. After the awaited feeding as she lay between us in bed, she entertained us with waves of smiling and cooing that have become legendary. The surge of coffee to the brain pales in comparison to the positivity and kick in our step that comes simply and innocently from just one of Cally's smiles.
Today is special because it's our first big day together...the one I've been waiting for. I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm ready, right? I've been giving her bottles, changing diapers, doing laundry, swaddling her for sleep since her earliest days on the planet.
All went smoothly until after the post nap bottle this afternoon. While burping little Cal, her little body went stiff as a board and the gutteral cries Katy and I refer to as "the Wildcat" (because of the joined wail and growl) started rolling...and rolling...and rolling. If she's fed, has a dry diaper and isn't tired...life is typically all good.
Without direction and looking for some magic wand to wave for for relief, I tried calling Katy who was unreachable having just started class. At about an hour in, I put Cally over my shoulder and a glorious burp leapt forth...relief for her and pennies from heaven for Dad!
What I am fast discovering, is that parenting a baby is a meditation of sorts. The practice demands presence and patience. It requires living in the moment and attending to he small things that make us both stronger. Cally's comfort, growth and happiness is inextricably bound to my own. We are on an incredible journey together and I'm pretty sure she will be doing most of the driving...
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