My son passed the two week threshold. I think that that means that I can include him in my blog without being the slightly annoying daddy-blogger, especially if I make it a short one. Right?
Shortly after Will was born, a nurse carried him over to a warming bed to get his vitals. As soon as his back touched the bed, he threw his arms out, stretching to his full length. His arms flailed as he yelled and squealed and squeaked.
For the last two weeks, Will only really seems happy when he's swaddled. Now, I didn't know anything about swaddling until we got ready to have a baby, but it's amazing. A blanket or two, wrapped strategically around a baby, acts like Vicodin. I don't know what Vicodin actually does, but it sounds like something that would make Will really happy.
Being straight-jacketed sounds like something that would inhibit freedom and make someone miserable. Not for children. The restriction on freedom of movement that comes from swaddling allows for other freedoms: freedom to sleep, freedom to use calories for growth, freedom to do whatever else it is that babies are doing when they're swaddled.
I love the freedom that God gives us. But sometimes I wonder if he isn't restricting some freedoms to free us up for others. Maybe the path of greatest freedom is also the path of greatest freedom. Maybe that's why they call it "the narrow path."