Morning fun with Riley

Here I sit at 6am when I should be sleeping.  I worked all night and need to get to bed, but here I sit next to the cutest snot-faced, booger-nosed 9 month old in the world.  I will save the descriptors of that, but you parents of infants know what I see in front of me.  Riley had been up since about 525am.  I was sitting in the living room on the couch, minding my own business, watching Vh1 Classic 80's videos.  I know what you are thinking.  Why watch those old hair-band videos?  Nothing except infomercials is on at this hour.  

Then, out comes the cry letting me know she is awake and wants desperately out of the evil crib her mother and I banished her to for the night.  I am so zoned into the Go-Go's video, I try to ignore it.  But Riley gets louder and more insistent that I go and save her from her captivity.  So when the David Coverdale video comes on I get up and rescue my baby.  Hey, I don't like him anyway. 

I walk in and she smiles as if to say, "Suckaaaaaaaa."  Riley laughs knowing her father is a complete pushover.  I will argue that I am too tired to fight it and just go get her, but we know the truth.  Anyway, I take her from the crib and see she is still wearing the clothes from yesterday.  No pajamas, but the same outfit she wore most of the day.  Why Mama, why?

So Riley is laughing and squealing at me as I walk to her rocking chair.  I made a ridiculous attempt to rock her back to sleep.  I lay her head on my shoulder and rest mine on the back of the recliner.  We start to rock and I realize something is wrong.  Do you know the feeling you get when you are being watched?  I got it.  So I open my eyes to see Riley with a wide mouthed smile showing her one tooth.  She is smiling and laughing again, making me realize that I actually am a "Suckaaaaaaaa."

We walk into the living room and she hears the overly synthesized 80's jams on the television and becomes interested.  Maybe it was the flashy neon colors on that guys face.  So there we sit, her on my chest, watching some guy wearing too much make up and sporting huge hair.  She quickly realizes, as I do, that it sucks and we go to the kitchen for a snack.  So here we sit eating apple-strawberry flavored puffed grain and a sandwich.  I pound away on the keys as she pounds the tray on her high chair begging for more puffs because she is obviously starving and wasting away.  At her last appointment she was in the 85th percentile in weight and 95th in height.  She isn't missing any meals folks.

Well momentarily I expect me tired wife ,who was awakened by the cries for food from my child, to walk in and ask me the same thing she asked me yesterday morning at about the same time, "What are you doing?"  She knows, as I do, I should be sleeping.  But she also knows, as I do, I am a softy and my 21 pound baby has her 230 pound daddy wrapped around her finger.  

I love being a daddy.  Now, off to change the morning doo-doo diaper.  Wish me luck...