What our baby has accomplished in the past three days truly goes beyond the scope. Our little jet setter has traveled the I-95 New York/DC corridor, attended a wedding and even her own baby shower. Maddie made it through each event with class and dignity – charming all that have come into contact with her.
It seems that we might also have an Oscar worthy actress in our midst. Gina and I have speculated that when the crowd around Madeleine grows past the eight-person mark – she plays a little game of possum. No matter how much the volume swells around her – Maddie slips into a rich deep sleep – or does she?
Is it possible that this so called slumber of the angels may just be a ruse? Both parents have noticed time and time again that when Maddie is immersed into a crowd of people – she covertly checks them out. It only lasts about a second and she only uses one eye – but she does a quick scan and then is seemingly knocked out again.
Gina and I are starting to wonder if she’s really sleeping as soundly as she exhibits. When she sleeps with us – she never checks out anything – but in the crowd – she’s actually going undercover.
Is this just a quick check or perhaps some sort of atavistic defense mechanism?
I know what you’re thinking – a nine-day-old infant doesn’t plot anything. But Gina and I are quickly learning that it’s never a good idea to underestimate the one we call: “Maddie A!”
Content Warning: My flowing prose and rapier wit has been dented as we crawl into Day 3.
Maddie began the war dance last night.
She deviously spaced out her sleep terrorism tactics into about 60 to 90 minute intervals. I’m hoping that she takes pity and doesn’t start water-boarding us again tonight.
Gina says she never been so sleep-depleted. Sometime around 4am – I tied my sleeplessness record from freshman year in college that took place some time during the Bronze Age.
In front of the grandparents – Maddie is all butterscotch and ponies – during the night, she morphs into Cerberus – the three headed creature that guards the entrance to Hades, tearing limbs asunder and taking no prisoners.
We’ve also discovered that this young lady considers the diaper change to be a personal effrontery of biblical proportions.
At around 2am – I conjured up the spirit of the younger and more talented Kevin Costner – and taught my daughter the Tatonka tribal dance. This is similar to (but not to be confused with) Katy Perry’s I’m drunker than Kesha and can not recall my Friday night whereabouts dance. Too many slizzers I guess, but I digress.
Madeleine and I begin our faux-Sioux dance while I chanted in broken Jim Morrison lyrics – all the while injecting the word TATONKA! For some reason, this puts Maddie to sleep time after time!
Thank you again Mr. Costner! “You’re welcome, Meat,” says Crash.