The idea was born a few days ago. My stepfather posted a picture on his timeline of the painting he created that hangs in my living room. (It's called The Encounter, and it's the vivid bit of loveliness that appears in the background of a lot of my indoor photos. It has the apples and butterflies against a bright blue sky.) Originally, I wanted to hold my granddaughter up in front of it, "holding" a card that wished him a happy birthday, and put a photo of this as a comment on the original post.
The kids came over for lunch on Monday, but I didn't have the card made, and we were otherwise distracted. I asked them to come again today, so we could have a second chance at it. It almost didn't go off. Little Grumpus fussed and cried most of the time she was here, even when her grandpa walked her around the house, bouncing her. She acted like her tummy hurt, and the usual stand-bys just weren't relieving her discomfort.
I gave up on the idea of holding her up by the painting. We pulled a small fleece blanket out of a drawer (I have been told she likes fleece), and swaddled her in it. It calmed her some. After a diaper change, she lay on that blanket on the floor, her mood temporarily mild. I set the birthday greeting card next to her, and took a handful of shots. Got a few cute ones, and I made the post. Whew.
The quiet period ended and she fussed again, loudly. It wasn't until then that I got my chance at her. I tucked her up on her knees against my shoulder, and patted her butt for about 20 minutes. She finally conked out, but any time I stopped patting, she woke back up. Girl knows what she wants, and apparently butt pats were it. Soon after, they put her in the car seat, ready to go home. You know that saying that newborn smiles are just gas? Yeah...yeah. Child was all smiles letting out whatever had ruined her day the hour before.
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