When You Dream

When you dream,
what do you dream about?
When you dream,
what do you dream about?
Do you dream about
music or mathematics
or planets too far for the eye?
Do you dream about
Jesus or quantum mechanics
or angels who sing lullabies?

I don’t really have much to blog about today. Exciting, I know. Found this awesome photo I took of Bessie sleeping and wanted to share it. It made me think about sleep and dreams and one of my favorite BNL songs popped in my head and so I wanted to share that too. (Hint: Turn your speakers up if you want to hear it).

Life is good. Erin has been sleeping and eating really well. I always imagined that life with a newborn would be much harder. I had imagined picking up a screaming infant from the crib, taking her into my arms and pacing the length of the house for hours and hours on end until finally the baby cried itself to sleep. We have been lucky so far. I’m not naive enough to think that this imaginary day might still not come, but it hasn’t yet and for that I’m grateful.

Some guys give me a little bit of grief because I still get up with my wife in the middle of the night. I guess since Kate is nursing than that absolves me of any and all fatherly duties between the hours of 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.? I don’t think so. The baby monitor is right next to my ear. When she starts crying I get up and change her diaper and then Kate gets up and nurses for a while. I know changing a couple of diapers a night isn’t that earth-shattering, but it’s helpful to my wife and until she tells me to stop because I put the diaper on backwards or upside-down or on her head, I’ll keep doing it. A friend at work (who has two children himself) asked me if I’ve begun bonding with my baby yet or not? He qualified the question by saying that some men that he knows don’t really “get into” being fathers until the baby is more interactive. I looked at him like he had just grown a new head out of his left nostril. For myself, I crave the time I get to come home so I can see my daughter. Even if she instantly falls asleep in my arms, I love it. How can a father not “get into” being a father with such a precious gift available? Boggles the mind.

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