May 28, 2000 - Sunday
Harry's mother and I have started joking about my apparent ability to get Harry to take naps. And, I have to say, it's a talent, if it really is such, that I enjoy a great deal and don't mind exploiting at all. Experience suggests that a well-rested baby is a happy baby. What's more, a sleeping baby is hard to beat for an adult imagining all the good things about a young life, full of potential.

I'm sure there's no real secret to this reputed talent and, as Harry's mother pointed out the other day, he'd go to sleep eventually. And, I suppose if there's a trick it's simply recognizing the signs of fatigue and knowing when it's time to try. I'm getting fairly familiar with Harry's schedule now, if not Harry's moods, and have been pretty successful with that part so far. If I combine that with a comfortable (for both of us) spot on my chest and a gentle hand over his head, I'm already most of the way there. Yet, for me, the real joy is in finding one of Harry's favorite songs and singing something of a lullaby into his little ear and having it relax him enough to turn the corner. I don't have to be a great singer, but it's nice to think Harry seems to like it. And, it could just be the growling vibration of my throat and chest that hypnotizes him, but I can live with that, too. These are very happy moments and, whatever the truth and whatever the bond that makes Harry comfortable enough with me to fall asleep, I'll take them.


Comments, opinions?