I woke this morning to the sound of Miles’s fussing piping through out baby monitor. It took me a few seconds of groggy semi-consciousness to realize that I hadn’t also heard a “Can you go check on him?” coming from Jaclyn. I rolled over to find that she had already gotten in the shower, and it was definitely going to be up to me to go find out what was wrong with the child.
I stumbled down the hall to Miles’s room, the wailing getting louder with each staggering movement. I walked into his room, and he stopped crying the second our eyes met. As I walked over to his pack ‘n’ play, he held out his hand. In that hand, Miles clutched one of his bathtub toys — a soft, plastic animal with a tiny hole in its mouth so it can suck in and shoot out water. Of course, with no water inside it, it blows air and makes a FFFT sound.
And so Miles held the toy out, waiting for me to take it from him. “FFFT! FFFT!” he said.
…yes, Miles had been fussing because he wanted me to get out of bed and squeeze his toy for him.
I happily obliged then went back to bed.
A minute or two later, once I was comfortable again, Miles’s fussing resumed. And, of course, it was at this point that Jaclyn emerged from the bathroom.
“He’s crying?” she said, clearly judging me as I lay in bed. “How long has he been crying?!”
“He’s not crying,” I said. “He just wants me to come back and squeeze that bath toy.”