Noah has many talents besides his acting skills… such as his ability to strangle a beast of a bear one-handed…
and (almost) shove his whole fist into his mouth…
I put him to bed every night like this:
Okay. Maybe not that happy OR that awake, but definitely that trapped.
His imprisonment is as follows:
- Fully buttoned footie pajamas,
- A double-sided wedge sleep positioner, and
- Swaddled ridiculously tightly in an extra large and completely un-stretchy blanket, rolled up in his tootsie roll so many times that you have to flip him four times on the bed to unravel him.
He looks like nothing but a detached Baby Bobble Head by the time I finish:
And so, with all of that effort and the fact that he’s TEN WEEKS OLD, and, therefore, not exactly mobile, I fully expect for him to look like this when I come get him in the morning:
About every fourth morning, I come in to find this:
I can almost hear the over-excited TV Commentator start talking as I leave the room…
“Okay! Start the countdown!! The Great Houdin-O-Baby now has only eight hours to be the YOUNGEST MAGICIABABY EVER to escape from this impossible trap!! Look at him wriggle!!! There’s a shoulder!! And another!! AMAZING!!! Will he make it??”
I suppose I should count my blessings that he hasn’t figured out how to escape his diaper yet, because once those morning stretches begin…
…his bed would suffer a fate worse than death that no amount of magicianship could reverse.