We have learned in the second month of Luke's life that he lulled us into a false sense of security in month one, posing as a relatively quiet baby that only needed to be fed to be kept reasonably happy. Now, Luke has decided that the regular setting of the sun is a life-shattering, cataclysmic event worthy of intense and prolonged panic. While not utterly inconsolable between 7 and 10 PM, Luke does prefer to quiet down for 5 minute stretches to catch his breath before bursting into a full-strength wail that fully exercises the limits of his tiny diaphragm. We're happy that Luke is building lung capacity, but I'm somewhat concerned that these outbursts tend to coincide with my arrival home from work and when I take over baby-handling duties (for at least a little while). Less than 6 weeks into fatherhood, and I'm already concerned that we're raising a Momma's boy. Of course, it could be that Luke just prefers being clutched to his mother's...um...bosom over his father's rock-hard chest and six-pack abs. Only time will tell.
The picture that goes with this post was taken before the sun set...hence the non-wailing nature of the subject. After computing the expected cost of college 18 years from now, I've concluded that our best bet for affording tuition is on a baseball scholarship, so we're dressing him appropriately. If Luke turns out to be a lefty, we could also hope to pay for our retirement via the arm of a millionaire major-league pitcher! Hope springs eternal, and it's not too early to dream. Here's to waiting and hoping...
