0444

While I would like people to think that I am up right now because of the following incident, the fact is, I'd be up anyway due to my weekly transition to graveyard schedule.  That does not change what happened.

The beloved is desperately trying to get some sleep, so I - being already slated for an all nighter - have been left in care.  There is milk in the fridge, so I'm good to go as soon as she stirs.

The lump wakes, having kicked off the blanket she was formerly taco-wrapped in.  How she pulled that off, I have no clue.  It doesn't matter:  I'm prepared.  I run to the fridge to get milk.

Here's an interesting observation:  breast milk is un-homogenized.  Didn't think about that, because it normally gets used about as fast as it's made.

Me:  "Umm, I hate to wake you up."

The beloved:  "Hmm?"

Me:  "Has breast milk gone bad when it separates?"

T.B.  "No."

Me:  "Ah, good.  'Night."

I shake up the milk and throw it in the bottle warmer.  I go change the lump's diaper and throw a sleeper on her that she can't kick off.  I hold her, bouncing a little as I wait for the beep.  It comes.

At this moment, I would like to point out that I set the bottle warmer properly.  For the second time running, I come in to find the bottle too cold.  I hit the button again, and continue bouncing and pacing to pacify my daughter as she cries.

Thanks to the last time this happens, I know not to let the bottle go through another full cycle lest it get too hot.  Unfortunately, I have no way of knowing how early to pull it.  The answer is not however long I waited tonight.  Upon finding the milk close to scalding, I may have made some disparaging remarks about the bottle warmer.

Me:  "Why you piece of poop.  And not even cute baby poop, at that.  No, you're a piece of nasty poop."

These are the kinds of expletives young fathers use.  They are pathetic, so to make up for it, I also stated wishes for it to spend its inanimate afterlife in Small Household Appliance Hell.

Fortunately, I know the way to fix this.  I quickly lay her back down and look for her soothie pacifier to keep her calm while I do so.  Then, I realize I have lost the soothie.  For you non-parents, that is what we call a "bad thing" in the parenting biz.  After a frantic search, I find it and stick it in her mouth, then fly to the kitchen to cut the hot milk with some cold milk.  Once I get it just right, I return to the living room.

To find her asleep.

One may wonder why this has been posted at 0742 instead of close to, say 0452 when it was composed.  The answer is simple.

She woke up again.  Hungry.