Here's what I learned (again) today:
When your teeny baby has a belly ache ("And he shall be called Gassy Gabe") and will only be peaceful wrapped snuggly in your arms...
(And even that is up for ne-gas-tiation...)
You should assess whether or not the laundry really needs to be folded...
And whether the bathrooms really need to be cleaned....
And whether you really need to squeeze in a few miles of running.
And you should know that Dad can handle Thing 1 & Thing 2.
(They will go to the lake and discuss Avengers back stories and make up complicated Water War Games in the yard involving rules that are only inflicted on Dad.)
And said Saint Dad will make dinner and ensure that yours features healthy veggies and a Blessed Beer.
And you should snuggle up and love that teeny being as best you can.
And let him take that oh-so-needed two hour nap on your chest while you snooze and read a Christopher Moore book on your Kindle.
'Cuz as far as I know, no one has died because laundry wasn't folded and bathrooms weren't cleaned.
But minds have been lost from trying to accomplish A Thing (or 10) when a baby just needs lovin'.
[Still searching for the cause of this fella's tummy trauma. Hasn't pooped in 5 days! It's not a dairy issue, clearly. Next step will be a wee chiropractic adjustment. Fingers crossed!]
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