We are finally, knock wood, achieving some kind of a normal routine with Minor. It hasn’t been easy. Our biggest issue with him has been extreme fussiness— his, and then subsequently ours. We’ve spent the last few weeks ruling out various theories: it’s not reflux, it’s persisted after his medications have been discontinued, and he is capable of going more than two and a half hours without a feeding. It turns out that he just gets bored easily. In other words, as long as he is simultaneously 1. being held 2. in constant motion and 3. entertained by a thrilling panorama enfolding in front of him, he is suddenly not gassy, ill, or hungry.

So five minutes in his swing while I fold laundry? Oh, the screeching! The wailing! The gnashing of gums, the rending of garments!

Five hours on a whale watch tour? Heard nothing from him but delighted giggles.

The advantage of this, of course, is that Minor is extremely portable, as long as we’re porting him someplace interesting. Here’s what we were able to enjoy on Saturday:

I always thought that babies were a hindrance to your life. How could you go anywhere with an infant in tow? But Minor doesn’t prevent us from doing anything. He just prevents us from stopping.