Possibly My Genetic Code Won't Ruin Everything, After All

The second day of being a SAHD was a day of firsts: First bath given by daddy, first community meeting attended by daddy with baby in tow (we lasted half the meeting), first walk around the neighborhood with baby in stroller that didn’t end in tears, first book longer than four pages read to baby by daddy (and second book, too), first day baby cried more tears than daddy (daddy cried none). Despite the string of moral victories, I’ve had easier days than today. Believe me.

For the first five and a half hours, for instance, it appeared that baby had given up on drinking from a bottle. Though there had been plenty of successful practice runs before mom went back to the office, yesterday and the first half of today truly made it seem that things would not – and could not – work out. After some ginger wrestling with yours truly, baby finally accepted nourishment from the bottle. And drink she did: three bottles.

As always, we sang plenty of songs together – presumably the greatest joy I’ll ever know. And, perhaps most important of all, I had the impression, fleetingly but repeatedly, that I would be up to this job. Praise be to God.