… just why that father/daughter dance at the wedding is so darn important.
Miss Olivia was in need of a little comfort after her feeding, so I volunteered to walk her around a bit. She was enjoying the view from my arms as we cruised the front den, but I wasn’t feeling quite as excited by it. Instead, I chose to move upstairs to the nursery/my office. I sat her in the floor, supported by the boppy pillow. She was enthralled by examining the room, but eventually grew a little bored with the position. Thinking to the activities guide that was part of the “owner manual” series, I decided to turn on some music and move her to the beat.
I already knew she was a bit of a Lyle Lovett fan, so that’s where I started. Something slow to show off his voice and to maybe calm her down – North Dakota. Once that was over, and she wasn’t lulled, I switched to Radiohead, playing Fake Plastic Trees, Bones and (Nice Dream). As we bobbed around the room, I held her away from my body with her looking toward me. Her eyes darted around the room as we danced and danced. Slowly but surely, though, her eyes grew heavy and the rate at which she pulled at her pacifier slowed. Just a moment ago, I settled her into her glider for what I hope will be a good couple hours of sleep for all involved…
Olivia (and future husband, should I approve Olivia to even date, much less marry) – you owe me a dance.