Who Says Babies Don’t Come with Instructions?

April 13, 2011

Come closer. I need to whisper. If Faith hears that she has a routine, she’ll freak out. Or maybe it’s the baby gods…they love it when parents proclaim things out loud so they can make them look dumb. “I swear she can wave bye-bye”…(2 solid minutes of standing there waiting for her to do it go by)…”No really, she just did it.” Sound familiar? Thought so. Let’s keep this post on the DL.

Faith’s (dare I type it) routine consists of rising and shining anytime between 5:45 to 6:15 a.m. When she knows it’s the weekend, she wakes up extra early. Just when we decide she’s more consistent then an alarm clock, she sleeps til 6:45 and we’re late for work.

No, Howie doesn’t sleep in Faith’s crib. Shot posed for effect, duh!

After a bottle, it’s time to corral her while Rob and I get ready. I prefer this high-tech, fool-proof contraption since she’s bored with the more expensive, safe baby-stay-put devices.

You cannot stop her. You can only hope to contain her.

We depart for daycare at 7:40 a.m. on a good day. On a bad day? Let’s not go there. My boss could read this post.

Does the song “pretty fly for a white guy” come to anyone else’s mind?
Then there’s daycare. Bless their baby-loving hearts. They feed Faith breakfast and lunch, change her “BM”s (oh yeah, they are still plural daily), try to get that sweet child o’ mine to nap for more than 30 minutes and teach her how to make monkey noises. I’m sure those are important for development at some point.
Rob picks Faith up between 3:30 and 4 o’clock and spends some quality daddy-daughter time rockin’ out until I get home.
upside down face!!
6 p.m. and dinner is served.

Finger foods are my new BFF!

After din din, It’s time for a splash bath. The girl is a going to get us in trouble at swimming lessons. So excited to meet the other Shrimps April 19th. Let’s hope Mr. Lindquist isn’t in charge of combing her hair when she gets out of the water…

Plotting her revenge and laughing about it.

At about 7:15, we both hit the bottle. Just kidding, Faith pounds a 7-ouncer, her last of four for the day, before we head upstairs for a book and bedtime.

Virtual hugs from Faith.