Little Man Takes Over

10:30 AM, TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 14

William Reese and Daniel Reese Maia Bingham

In Brasil, the tradition is for baby to go home from the hospital wearing something red.
Since Cecilia didn't know about this tradition until a week before Daniel's birth,
I volunteered to make a red pom pom for his cap.
Does it look too Christmas elfish?

Little more than 36 hours after his first breath, Daniel came home on Monday. . . . I think it was Monday . . . was it just yesterday? . . . what time is it? . . . is it still February?

Little Man has definitely taken over the apartment, our lives, and our hearts.

Q and Jewel haven't met Little Man face-to-face, but they are both curious and in major snits over the noisy blanket that has invaded their space. Jewel just tried to meet her new rival, but the Gringa Granny is on guard! I'll leave the first meeting up to the parents.

Have you ever watched the activity that accompanies a nest of newly-hatched birds? This little hatchling has definitely changed the rhythm of this nest. Two loads of Daniel laundry were washed and hung to dry within an hour of Daniel's homecoming. FYI-tiny socks, caps, and Onesies dry a lot slower than gauzy swaddling blankets.

Cars, trains, giraffes and crocodiles have replaced gray t-shirts on the drying racks.

Will has been out hunting and gathering some fresh foods and other necessities. Cecilia is recovering from her C-Section (major abdominal surgery), and learning Daniel's rhythms. Both are so attentive to one another and Baby D.

Like every new parent since Adam and Eve, Will and Cecilia are running on empty at this point.

Dad introduces Daniel to his favorite spot--the rede (hammock)
by the window in the living room.

Two Reeses in a Red Rede
Rede is pronounced HEH djeh, because when an R starts a word, it takes on the sound of an H.
BTW--Reese is pronounced HEH sheh!

Mid-day Tuesday caught up with everyone.

 Even in their sleep-deprived state they still have loving encouragement for each other and infinite patience with the new Ruler. Breast feeding involves a very steep learning curve, you know, for both Mommy, Dad, and Little Man.

Bright Boy knows both Mommy and Dad's voices, and responds with intent listening and a blink of his blurry dark eyes. On the other hand, Cecilia and Will are getting to know Daniel's language of cries. Is he hungry? Uncomfortable? Dirty? Wet? Tired? We're all learning. In the meantime, C's mom, Dora, says that Cecilia takes care of the top half, and Will takes care of the bottom half.

Vovo Dora with a very calm Daniel

Right now, (Tuesday morning) Little Man is visiting in my room so Mommy and Dad can hopefully get some much-needed sleep. After raising cane all night Monday night, Daniel is peacefully checked-out, swaddled in a knit blanket, on my bed.

Mommy and Dad are napping in their room.

I'm ready for a diaper change with Boudreaux's Butt Paste
and a great portable changing station from Aunt Iris and Uncle Doug in Houston.

Daniel sleeps peacefully with dancing monkeys.

This after our walking approximately one mile around the dining room table, figuring out that this time swaddling does not mean wrapping both arms by his sides, and finding a bottle nipple that I could plug with my freshly washed little finger to help him relax. Oh, and also leaving the kitchen faucet running full out for ambient noise. And singing "Jesus Loves Me," "I See the Moon," and "There's Just Something About That Name."  (Monkeys weren't the only thing dancing around Daniel . . .)

I've discovered what Will calls some 'baby voodoo'--a hold/rock/sway that seems to calm Little Man. When Will was small, I honed my stubborn patience to a T. There was a lullaby--"Sleep, Baby, Sleep. Your Daddy tends the sheep. Your Mama shakes the dreamin' tree to sprinkle down sweet dreams for thee. Sleep, Baby, Sleep." Mix that mesmerizing tune with a hold/bounce/pat routine, and sleep was not to be denied--even for young Will. As per the circle of life, Cecilia and Will are going to find that combination for Daniel.

We've been home for less than 24 hours now. Mommy, Dad, and Daniel are asleep; and I'm just watching Little Man breathe. With an occasional scrunch and squeak, our 60-hour-old Gift from God smiles. The angels are talking to him, you know.

Thank You, God, that Little Man has taken over our hearts. Help us to be wise and loving with Daniel, the Gift whom You've entrusted to Cecilia and Will's care.