I figured if Douglas is gonna get anywhere in the majors, he may as well get used to the site of a man's bare chest, particularly one all ripped like his dad's.
So, today while Maw was out pumping and Rick and Kelle had gone, I snuck in a little 'kangaroo' time of my own. Words truly cannot describe (and you all know I have some words) the feeling of that tiny little spider monkey all curled up on my chest, listening to my heartbeat, beating once for every 2-3 times his does.
His rising and falling with my breath reminded me of surfing or just lying on a board or raft in the water, contently letting the waves move you. I tried breathing nice and deep, real slow like, to give him a good-but-not-dizzying ride.
Apparently moving these little guys heads even a little bit can make them dizzy for half an hour. Rocking is a big no no, which Melissa reminded me of when she came back to discover me in heaven holding the little guy for the first time, having already rocked him well into a psychedelic trance, I'm sure. Again, he'll thank me later.
I then sat still for a few minutes while Mama shot a couple of pix of my gross hairy chest with the little angel on top, looking at me all googly-eyed, and then I returned Douglas to his rightful place on Her chest. No hair, and a much better ride, I'm certain.
We went back up to see him tonight, and he was fast asleep, all curled up again. Breathing, eating, and growing. You know, regular baby stuff. Good night. Indeed.
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