Last weekend, Josh went to choir camp at the beach. Rather than twiddle the baby's thumbs at home, I took her to see my parents. It was her first overnight trip, and also the farthest west she's ever traveled. There were many firsts - her first time at a Methodist church, her first Mexican restaurant, her first potluck, seeing her first donkey. Do you remember your first donkey?
I was pretty nervous about flying solo with the baby. Because Josh is a stay-at-home-dad, he's become kind of the default caregiver. We trade off, but he just spends more time with her. He's also quicker to respond to her cries, flying to her aid almost immediately. Meanwhile, I give it a second or two to see if she'll get over it...and maybe to see if Josh will get there first.
But it was fine, because she is an easy baby. She let everyone hold her, and gracefully handled the mass of relatives all up her in face. She got a bit overwhelmed a couple of times, but would calm down if I took her outside for a minute. It was a nice confidence boost for me. This is my baby, I can keep her alive and happy all by myself for four whole days.
When we got home, Josh was already back. He must've missed us, because he came out to the car to meet us. I was getting the baby out of the car seat when I noticed something yellowish dripping down her leg. Josh was coming toward us, love in his eyes, and I thrust her into his open arms, saying "She's leaking poop."
It's so nice to have a partner in these things.
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